


The Falcons Fly

by drbeyne



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: Dakar Rally, F/M, Motorcycles, bereavement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28874274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drbeyne/pseuds/drbeyne
Summary: Sidlotte enters the world of cross-country motorcycle racing.  Charlotte Heywood is a talented amateur biker and a huge fan of sporting legend, Sidney Parker. When they meet on the most dangerous race in the world, the Dakar Rally, will Charlotte end up agreeing with the saying, ‘never meet your heroes because they’re sure to disappoint’...?
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker
Comments: 502
Kudos: 312





	1. Flying Again

**Author's Note:**

> Write about what you know, they say. Well, before writing this I knew nothing about motorbikes - I’ve never even been on one. But I have watched the Dakar Rally from time to time and been blown away by the motorcyclists who take part. This plus a sincere desire to be somewhere else in my head, doing something I’d never do in real life and this story took shape. So I read some stuff, watched a load of youtube videos and added a dollop of imagination and here we are. If, unlike me, you actually know something about motorbikes - I’d love to know if I’ve got it right - or seriously wrong!

“Can competitors please make their way to the starting line,” the loudspeaker blared. “The 19th Sussex Motocross Championship is about to get under way!”

Charlotte Heywood could see the other competitors looking around, chatting to each other. Behind her visor she was a mess of contradicting emotions; excitement and trepidation vying for preeminence. She concentrated on her breathing: in through the nose, out through the mouth, nice long breaths, you can do this Charlotte, focus, enjoy, breathe....

The gates came down and they were off. Charlotte’s panic vanished and was replaced with a deep calm. She was back where she was supposed to be, on her motorbike and racing hard. She felt the bumps in the dirt track, the whoosh of air against her body, the warm scent of spring and the rich tang of soil. She was already moving forward, passing other riders as they reached the first turn. Then came the first rise in the track and her bike took off into the air and she was flying. Up and down, round the bends, in the air, she could do no wrong, the bike and her were as one. 

She could hear the crowd cheering now. Somewhere in their midst was her father and brothers…She felt her concentration slip and her bike veer off its racing line. No, no, no, don’t think about them, Charlotte. Breathe, remember to breathe. She was back, fully focussed on the track ahead. But her moment’s inattention had let one of her competitors get past. She hadn’t gone through all this preparation to lose the race now. She had the same feeling she used to get when she knew she could win. 

She was gaining on the guy in front, there was one final jump before the finish line and then she was passing the chequered flag. She had won! But where was the guy who’d been in front of her? She pulled up and looked behind. He was on the ground, just short of the finish line. Her heart in her mouth, her mind blank, she watched until she saw him stand up, get back on the bike and cross the line. She was so fixated on what could have been, that she didn’t at first notice the other riders stopping next to her, slapping her on the back and holding out hands to shake. She took a deep breath and responded to the other riders, shaking their hands, receiving their congratulations.

She saw her family pushing through the crowd to reach her. Suddenly she was in a huddle of brothers as they all competed to be the first to tell her she was the best. Finally emerging, she saw her dad looking at her, a mixture of pride and sorrow on his face.

“Charlotte, my girl…” he said, giving her a hug.

“Was it alright, dad? I know this was hard…”

“I’m not going to stop you doing what you love, sweetheart. Peter would be so proud of you.”

“Would he? Do you think so? Really?”

“I really do.”

“But what about mum…?”

“You leave your mum to me. Now I think there's a podium with your name on it somewhere. Come on.”

The whole family moved off to the winners’ podium, already adorned with two women in skimpy t-shirts straddling enormous Harley-Davidsons.

“For fuck’s sake,” said Charlotte. “Sorry dad for the language, but really! When’s this sport going to reach the 21st century? And they’re not even on motocross bikes!”

Her father rolled his eyes at her. “It’s just tradition, darling. There’s no harm in it.”

Charlotte snorted and glared at her brothers who were all ogling the women. If only Peter was here. He’d have understood. Charlotte shook the thought away and handed her bike and helmet over to her brothers to look after before climbing up on the stage.

After receiving her winner’s cup and posing for photos for the local newspaper, Charlotte rejoined her family and they started to make their way to the carpark.

“Look, Charlotte,” said William, one of her brothers. “Isn’t that Susan Worcester?”

A woman in her 40s with thick chestnut hair, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, was striding towards them.

“It’s Charlotte, isn’t it? That was a super race! I’m Susan Worcester.”

“I… I know who you are,” stuttered Charlotte, overwhelmed at meeting this icon of the motorcycling world. “I’m a huge fan of yours!”

“Really?” Susan said with a wry look on her face.

“First woman motorcyclist to complete the Dakar, first woman to win the British Enduro Championship, you’re amazing!”

“Well that’s very kind. But what about you? I haven’t seen you ride before and then you’re here smashing all the competition. What’s your story?”

Charlotte looked at the ground and then took a deep breath and said, “I used to compete. But my brother died. Biking accident. Anyway, I’m back now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Susan, her brown eyes filled with compassion. “Ours is a brutal sport. But you’re a talented rider. You should come race at the Women’s Enduro next month.”

“Yeah?” Charlotte’s face brightened. “I’d like that.”

“Let’s exchange details and I can send you the information.”

Charlotte pulled her phone out of her pocket. Susan looked at it and saw the picture Charlotte had as her wallpaper - a rider mounting a sand dune.

“Is that from the Dakar Rally?”

“It is.”

“Have you ever thought about competing there?”

Charlotte’s eyes shone at the thought. “It’s my absolute dream.” Her face then fell. “But I could never afford it. Just the entrance fee is beyond me and then there’s the travel and back-up and insurance… Maybe one day…” 

Susan looked again at Charlotte’s phone. “Is that Sidney Parker in the picture?”

“Yes!” Charlotte’s face shone again. “I think he’s amazing!. Five times Dakar winner and after everything he’s been through… He’s been a kind of role model for me with Peter and everything…”

Susan looked at her, amused. “Have you ever met him?”

“Sidney Parker?” Charlotte looked amazed. “No! I mean he’s like a god and I’m just… well, me.” She then remembered who she was talking to and said, “Actually, can I ask, what are you doing here? I mean, this isn’t exactly a top flight event.”

“Oh, my son was in the race.”

“Really? How did he do?”

Susan smiled ruefully, “He’s the one who overtook you at the end, but then fell off his bike.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Never apologise for winning, my dear. Now let’s exchange details and I’ll see you again next month.”

Once Charlotte and her family had moved off again, Susan took out her phone.

“Georgie? I think I’ve found our third rider. The only problem for you might be that she’s a fan of Sidney Parker.”

There was an audible groan. “That man! I presume she’s never met him.”

“I asked. No, she hasn’t.”

“That’s why she’s a fan. If she’s the rider for us, I’ll be happy to put her straight on Parker.”

\-------------------

Four weeks later, Charlotte turned up to the Women’s Enduro. She was happy to be at a competition for women only. It wasn’t that she disliked competing against men - she had grown up as the only girl in a family of six - now five - brothers - all of whom had ridden bikes at one time or another. In the past she had entered races for both sexes - although the girls were always in a tiny minority - and had never felt less capable than the boys. But she found the use of scantily clad women to ‘decorate’ events deeply irritating and detrimental to taking women seriously in the sport. The thought of competing in a women’s only event was, to her, very appealing.

She had driven over with a couple of her brothers, John and William, who said they were there to support her and take care of her bike, but who she knew were more attracted by the women they thought they might meet there. Leaving her bike with them, she made her way to the marquee where she signed in.

“You made it, excellent!” Charlotte turned round and saw Susan Worcester standing with a tall young woman, her black afro in neat plaits across her head. “Let me introduce you to Georgie Lambe - Georgie, this is Charlotte Heywood, the woman I was telling you about.”

The two women shook hands, Charlotte curious as to why she would have been the subject of their conversation.

“Susan tells me she saw you winning at a motocross event. Ever tried enduros before?” said Georgie.

“It’s not something I’ve done competitively before. But I learnt to ride on my parents’ farm - our fields are surrounded by hills and trees. And recently I’ve been riding a lot around there, so it’ll be interesting to see how I do here.”

“Well, best of luck! We’ll see you at the finish line.”

Charlotte retrieved her bike from her brothers and joined the other women in three rows at the start line. A voice boomed out of the tannoy: “Welcome to the Women’s Enduro! Ladies, it’s between the trees, up the hill, through the woods and back, as many times as you can do in the next three hours…”

And then the flag came down and the first row of riders were off. A few seconds later and the flag came down again and it was Charlotte’s turn. The ground was muddy and she felt the wet earth immediately spray up against her legs as she sped off; the rich smell of turf mingling with the exhilaration she felt as she launched herself between two lines of trees. Then she was climbing a hill, nothing as steep as the hills where she had grown up. She was up and over, and hurtling down towards the woods where the bulging tree roots and fallen branches slowed her down. But she was through and then starting again - and again - round and round, up and down and over. She saw riders in front, riders behind, but as the time passed they were more spread out. She entered the zone where she was one with the bike, conscious only of her senses; the smell and the feel of the air around her, only dimly aware of the ache in her arms and legs. 

Eventually, as she reached the start once again, she saw the chequered flag waving and the riders ahead of her stopping. The three hours were over. When all the riders had arrived and the times and laps were counted, Charlotte was delighted to discover she had come in seventh out of an original line-up of thirty riders. 

“Very well done, Charlotte!” Susan congratulated her. “For a first enduro, you did really well.”

“I loved it!” said Charlotte, her face glowing. 

“Have you time for a chat?”

They took Charlotte’s bike over to her brothers to take charge of and then found Georgie standing by a van talking to a woman as covered in mud as Charlotte was.

“Have you two met before?” said Georgie. “Esther Denham - Charlotte Heywood.”

Charlotte saw a woman with long curly red hair who looked at her shrewdly, sticking out her hand to shake. 

“I’m afraid Esther beat you, but she’s been doing it a lot longer than you,” said Susan.

“Your first enduro?” Esther asked. Charlotte nodded. “How did you find it?”

“Exhilarating,” Charlotte replied, grinning.

“It’s a lot more taxing than motocross - did it take it out of you?”

“Not really. I’m pretty fit.”

“Is this the longest race you’ve done?” asked Georgie.

Charlotte thought for a moment. “Probably - in one go. I’ve done shorter motocross races, but several over one weekend.”

“So you’ve never done the Romaniacs or the Mongol Rally?”

Charlotte laughed, “No. But I’d love to!”

“Susan told us you stopped racing. Can you tell us what happened?” asked Esther.

Charlotte looked at the three women. “Why all these questions? It feels like a job interview…”

Susan smiled at her. “It is - sort of.”

Charlotte frowned. “Shouldn’t I know what it’s for before I answer personal questions?”

The three women looked at each other. “I’d like to know some more about her before we say anything,” Esther said to the other two. 

“I’m right here, you know!” said Charlotte, starting to lose her temper. “Ok, if you really want to know. My brother, Peter, and I were in a motocross competition together. I was ahead of him and he fell off and hit his head in just the wrong place and died right there, on the course. I didn’t know what had happened until the race was stopped… Anyway, I, uh, kind of flipped for a while after that. But I’ve put myself back together and here I am.”

Georgie and Susan were looking at her with compassion but Esther was still weighing her up. “How did you put yourself back together?”

Charlotte looked into Esther’s green eyes that seemed to be challenging her to prove herself. “Therapy and yoga,” she replied shortly.

“How do your parents feel about you competing again?” asked Susan gently.

Charlotte sighed. “Dad understands that it’s something I have to do. Mum is… well, she’s still coming to terms with it.” 

Esther turned to Georgie and frowned. “There’s no way she can…”

“There's no way _she_ can what?” interrupted Charlotte.

“Let’s tell her and see what she says,” said Susan.

“I’m not happy about this,” said Esther. “I don’t think she’s right for this. It’s too dangerous.”

Charlotte, mystified and a bit irritated, looked at these women talking about her and said, “Tell me what’s going on or I’m off - I’ve got a long drive home and work tomorrow.” 

Some kind of unspoken agreement seemed to pass between Georgie and Susan.

“I’m putting together a women-only team to compete at the Dakar,” said Georgie. “And we’re considering you for the third rider spot.”

Before Charlotte could say anything, Esther said, “But it’s the hardest and most dangerous race in the world and we can’t afford to carry you if it gets too much.”

Susan glanced at Esther’s belligerent face and then turned to Charlotte and said, “We want to get more women competing in the Dakar, show that we’re just as capable as men and provide some inspiration to girls coming into the sport. It would be me, Esther and you riding. I’m there to help you navigate the challenges. Since so few competitors actually complete the rally and it’s important at least one of us gets to the end, we’d be prioritising Esther. Which means that if anything happens to her bike, you’d have to be willing to pull out so your bike could be used for parts. But that’s the worst case scenario. We’re going to do everything to get us all there at the finish.”

Georgie then chipped in. “We have a sponsorship deal with Beaufort Bikes so you’ll have a custom-made rally bike to ride. And all the fees and expenses are covered by me.”

“But you’re going to have to really get your endurance levels up, get a lot of practice riding on sand, and make bloody sure any past demons are well and truly dealt with,” said Esther.

“Is that it?” Charlotte said. “Nothing else to say? Or can I speak finally?”

The three women looked at each other and then back at her.

“Well?” said Susan. “What do you think?”

“For fuck’s sake, what do you think I think?” said Charlotte. “I’m in, obviously. Of course I am. I’m in.”


	2. The Falcons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely encouraging comments! None of you have come out yet as a biker, so no expert feedback on my story. I’d love to have some! But in the meantime here we find out some more about Charlotte.

Charlotte had a lot to think about on the drive home. She had just agreed to take part in the Dakar Rally, almost two weeks racing in the desert for hundreds of kilometres a day. Although it had angered her, Esther had been right to question her stamina and resilience. She knew the statistics: only a third of motorbikes that started the race reached the finish. Either your bike broke or you did. If it wasn’t some terrible injury that stopped you, you might just give up. Even if you were exhausted, in pain and the sun had gone down, you needed the will to keep going until the stage was finished. Day after day after day. 

The physical side of it didn’t worry her. She had nine months to compete in as many races as she could to build up her stamina. The mental side of things did scare her. Charlotte had worked hard with a therapist after her brother’s death, but had she really recovered enough to be able to deal successfully with this event? Besides, could she really put her mum through this? And yet, she was racing again. She couldn’t stop herself even though she knew how much it scared her mother. Her mum had been brilliant though. “I can’t stop you living the life you want, Charlotte. I knew the risks when I married your father. Please don’t let my fears stop you doing what you want to.” But she had said that when Charlotte was entering an hour long race, not a two week rally… yet it had been on an hour-long race that Peter had died… it didn’t matter how long or short it was, death could take you at any time… I could be knocked off my bike by a bus in town… but this is different, when you’re exhausted you make stupid mistakes… I musn’t get exhausted then… The thoughts went round and round.

She still wasn’t sure what to tell her parents. When they sat down to dinner - and she saw her mother looking at them all, like a nervous chicken counting her brood - Charlotte surprised herself by saying, “I think it’s time I moved out.”

“But we love having you here!” said her mum, looking panicked.

“I know. But I’ve been back ever since… and it’s been two years now and I just think it’s time.”

As she said it, she knew she was right. She needed to prove to her parents - and to herself - that she was able to take on the challenge the Dakar posed. This meant passing the first hurdle which was living away from the supportive bubble of her family. Moreover, it would keep her mother from knowing how many races she was taking part in and protect her from all the fear and anxiety each race inspired in her. She would tell them about the Dakar nearer the time.

The very next day she found herself a bedsit in Burgess Hill, a sleepy market town a few miles from home. It didn’t have the excitement of nearby Brighton, but she couldn’t afford the sky-high rents in that vibrant stylish city. Burgess Hill might have been sleepy and conventional, but it was affordable and convenient for lots of her jobs as a motorbike courier.

One of Peter’s mechanic friends let her keep her motocross bike and tools in his garage and loaned her a van for race days. She signed up at the local gym and devised an exercise plan with one of the instructors which would build up her endurance and strength. In addition, she continued with the yoga classes that had helped her come out of the pit Peter’s death had plunged her into. The long slow stretches and the long measured breathing had calmed her and allowed her to climb back into herself. 

And so the next few weeks and months passed in a whirl of delivery jobs, gym sessions and races. She felt herself becoming stronger, physically and mentally. The guys at the gym noticed too.

“What do you do for fun, Charlotte?” said one of the trainers, admiring her glowing skin and defined muscles.

“I come here,” she said, laughing. “This is fun.”

“No, really. Pubs, dancing?”

“No time.”

“Everyone needs some time off. Come out with me.”

Charlotte cocked her head to one side and considered him. It was tempting. All the instructors were good-looking - with all the exercise they did, they couldn’t be anything but. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t time. I have to focus on my racing. I can’t be… distracted.” She gave him a half smile. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“Well, when you’re ready, I would love to distract you,” he said and winked. 

Charlotte blushed and hurried out.

It was true that she had little free time and that she was completely focussed on getting ready for the Dakar. But there was more to her refusal than just that. She wasn’t interested in dating a string of guys - she met enough of them through work and at races. She wanted a proper relationship, a meeting of minds, a sudden knowledge that this was the one. She was fascinated by the story of Sidney Parker, whose childhood sweetheart and then wife, had died while competing at the Dakar. He had then gone on to win the rally five times and had dedicated each win to the memory of his lost love. Charlotte found this story both desperately tragic and unspeakably romantic. To have loved so deeply seemed something to aspire to. Dating the guy from the gym just didn’t have the same air of romance. 

\---------------

In June, Georgie summoned the team to her flat in Chelsea to go through the registration documents. Charlotte was a bit stunned when she entered Georgie’s home just off the King’s Road. Thick cream rugs, shiny kitchen appliances, striking pieces of African art - all so elegant and sumptuous compared to her own messy bedsit decorated with posters and motorbike memorabilia. She was sure she was older than Georgie and yet this was the home of a poised and obviously wealthy young woman. Charlotte felt like a scruffy kid in comparison. She sat on the edge of a plush cream sofa - worried that she would make it dirty - and watched the other three women sink back against the soft cushions. When Georgie offered coffee, she accepted, but was terrified she would spill it. 

Georgie brought out the paperwork and as they started to talk about the nuts and bolts of the race, Charlotte forgot her surroundings and relaxed. She might not be the equal of these other women when it came to money and class, but at least she knew about bikes. 

“I have to tell you,” said Georgie, “that the race has changed country. As you know, the rally still can’t actually be raced to Dakar because of security concerns in the Sahara. And we thought it would be in Chile again as it has been the last few years. But I’ve just heard it’s going to be held next in Saudi Arabia.”

The four of them looked at each other. Finally Esther said, “How’s that going to work? With us being an all-female team? Are women even allowed to drive over there?”

“They got the right to drive in 2018, apparently,” replied Georgie. “There’s been some loosening of restrictions for women.”

“We’re not going to be used as some kind of propaganda, are we? To prove to the world that the regime is now fully progressive when it comes to women’s rights?” said Esther.

“I don’t want to be used in that way,” said Charlotte.

“Me neither,” said Esther.

They looked at each other. It was the first time they had publicly agreed on anything. Although they had met several times at rallies over the previous months, relations were still frosty between them.

“I agree,” said Susan. “I think we should refuse any attempts by the Saudi government to use us for propaganda. We could say we’d like to meet women interested in bike racing…”

“Definitely,” said Charlotte. “I’d love to meet some local women.”

“If it doesn’t distract from the race,” said Esther severely. “We’re not going there on holiday, remember.”

The frostiness was back. She really doesn’t think I’m a serious rider, thought Charlotte, even now.

“Ok,” said Georgie. “That’s decided. No involvement in government propaganda, but maybe meet some local women if there’s time. Right, let’s get some more of these forms completed.”

“Can I just ask first,” said Charlotte. “Are we really all women? What about the mechanics?” 

“We’ve got one excellent woman mechanic on-board - Clara Brereton,” said Georgie. “But there is going to be one man with us - James Stringer - as the other mechanic. He’s worked at the Dakar before and I think his experience will be invaluable. He’s a nice guy. Nothing macho about him. I think he’ll fit in well.” 

After a lot of tedious form-filling they sat back and Georgie made them all some more coffee. As she took the cup from her, Charlotte said, “Can I ask you something, Georgie? Why aren’t you riding? I mean why are you financing all this if it’s not because you want to take part?”

There was a deathly silence.

“I… I’m sorry. Is there something I shouldn’t… I do sometimes speak without…”

“No, no, you’re right to ask,” said Georgie. “You need to know who I am. I am your team manager, after all.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m not riding because my arse of a guardian wouldn’t let me ride when I was under his so-called care. When I got my independence I… I was scared. My dad rode and I was desperate to ride too, but I started too late. You need to start when you’re in your teens, when you’re bold and fearless. So now I’m on a mission to get women into the sport. To show my sexist pig guardian that he was wrong.”

Charlotte nodded. “Good for you. I hate men who don’t think we should ride. My parents were great - well, my dad’s always ridden bikes so we got the bug from him. I’ve got six brothers…” She corrected herself, “I had six brothers, now five. I’m the oldest now - Peter was older than me - and we all learnt to ride. Peter and me were the only ones who did it competitively, but my brothers all support me…”

“How’s your mum doing with you entering the Dakar?” asked Susan gently.

“I haven’t told her yet,” said Charlotte biting her lip.

“I think you’d better do it soon, before word gets out. An all-women team’s bound to attract some attention.

“That reminds me,” said Georgie. “I think it would be cool if our team had a name. Any thoughts?”

“My son calls us the Pink Ladies,” said Susan, laughing.

“Absolutely no reference to ‘pink’ or ‘ladies’, please,” said Esther. 

“How about Georgie’s Girls then?” said Susan, laughing again.

They all laughed at that. “No pink, no ladies, no girls,” said Esther. “It’s obvious we’re women. Can’t we have a name that refers to our bike skills instead?”

Charlotte was studying her phone and looked up. “How about calling ourselves, The Falcons? I mean, they soar don’t they? And isn’t that the feeling you get when you’re on the bike and it’s going well? It feels like you’re flying, like you’re weightless and nothing exists except you and the air around.”

They looked at her thoughtfully, nodding.

“And it says here,” she indicated her phone, “that peregrine falcons are the fastest-moving animals in the world and that female falcons are bigger than the males.”

“That clinches it for me,” said Georgie. “What do the rest of you think?”

Susan and Esther looked at each other and then raised their cups. “To The Falcons!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dakar took place in Saudi Arabia for the first time last year. It was there again this year - it finished last weekend. It might still be on Eurosport if you're interested or there are highlights of each stage on youtube.


	3. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your enthusiasm for this story! I wasn't sure if anyone would like a fanfic set in what's a bit of an obscure sport, so I'm very pleased you're enjoying it. Mr Sidney Parker will make his first appearance in the next chapter, but in the meantime, The Falcons get ready for the rally to start.

To make sure Charlotte and Esther had some experience of riding on sand, Georgie booked the two of them and Susan into a hotel in Dubai for a week in October. 

“There’s no point training on sand in Britain, it’s too wet and heavy,” said Susan. “The sand in the desert is dry and soft - a completely different experience.”

They took with them the rally bikes designed and built for them by Beaufort Bikes, a small company run by the Beaufort sisters - two immensely talented engineers who specialised in building motorcycles that suited women riders. 

“I’m glad we have something suited to our delicate lady frames,” said Esther sarcastically.

“You’ll be pleased when you’ve fallen off your bike for the third time in a day, you’ve 200kms still to ride and you’ve had three hours sleep,” said Susan. “The first time I was at the Dakar, I could barely lift my bike, I was so tired. These are lighter for a reason.”

“Well, I love my new bike!” said Charlotte. “I can’t believe someone actually designed this just for me. It’s beautiful, so cool. I can’t wait to try it out.”

To Charlotte, this week in Dubai was a dream. Although she had travelled round the country for races, she had rarely been abroad. With such a large family, and a farm to run, her parents hadn’t been able to take them on foreign holidays. She had been on a day trip to France with the school and then a package holiday to Spain with some girlfriends, but this was her first taste of really being abroad and she loved it. The heat, the unfamiliar landscape, the sheer difference of it all, intrigued and stimulated her. But there wasn’t much time for exploring, they were there to work.

Susan showed them how to navigate over flat sand, then over some small dunes, and finally over the big dunes that looked as intimidating as mountains. Charlotte struggled at first, not used to the new big rally bike, but eventually she found herself getting the hang of it and enjoying the sensation of riding on soft sand - so different from the muddy ruts and tree roots she was used to. She did fall a few times and was surprised how such soft sand could feel so hard when you landed on it.

Afterwards they gathered round the hotel pool for a drink and a chat about the day. 

“What’s the Dakar really like, Susan?” asked Charlotte one evening as they enjoyed the warm night air and exotic drinks from the bar.

Susan took a sip of her bright orange cocktail. “Well, firstly, it’s chaotic. There are bikes, cars and trucks all competing. And even if they are in competition in their own classes, they are still racing along the same route. The cars are mad - they don’t care about the bikes - you just have to get out of their way, and fast.” She took another sip and continued, “And secondly, you don’t enter trying to win. Unless you’re a Parker or a Babbington, a professional riding for a factory team, you’re not in the running. For the rest of us, it’s all about getting to the end. So really, you’re racing against yourself, against the barriers your brain throws up to stop you finishing - you’re too tired, too sore, too scared to continue. I’ve got to tell you it’s the hardest, toughest, most painful thing I’ve ever done - and I’ve given birth and been involved in a bitter divorce. It pushes you to the very edge of what you think is possible and then pushes you beyond that. It makes you face who you really are and that’s not always pleasant.”

Charlotte’s eyes grew bigger as she listened. There was a silence after Susan finished, only broken when Esther said, “Why have you entered, Charlotte? Do you really need to do this? Your parents have already lost one kid, they could lose you too. People die doing the Dakar.” 

“I know they do,” said Charlotte, stirring her blue drink with its cocktail umbrella. “I want to do it for my brother, Peter. We always dreamed of doing the Dakar together. So, it’s for him, but at the same time, it’s for me. Because I’m still alive. If I stop following my dreams because he died, it’s like I’ve died as well. And I haven’t. I’m still here. And I want to see if I can do it. Does that make sense?”

Esther nodded slowly. “Yes, I think it does.” She smiled. “I’m sorry I’ve given you a hard time. But I needed to make sure you were ready for this. We need to be able to trust each other.”

“And do you now? Trust me?”

“Oh, you’ll find I’m a very mistrustful person.” She smiled ruefully. “But I’m getting there.”

“Tell me then, why are you doing this rally?”

“A bit like you, I suppose, because I’m alive, because I can, because people - family - have tried to put me down in the past and I could have succumbed - almost did - but I managed to find my way through and here I am.”

\------------------

The softening of relations between Charlotte and Esther continued when they returned - and the two of them and Susan became a proper team. It sometimes felt to Charlotte as if they were another family, with Susan as her glamorous worldy-wise aunt and Esther, her sarcastic older cousin. And Georgie as her fairy godmother. 

They were the first people she turned to after finally telling her parents about the Dakar. Her mum and dad had sensed something was up. A holiday in Dubai was so alien to Charlotte’s normal activities, they had wondered if she’d met an older man who was whisking her off on exotic holidays. They were almost relieved when it turned out to be about motorbikes instead. Relieved and then terrified. Charlotte’s father, always the more stoical of the two, and the one who understood the addictive quality of racing was the first to give her his support. Her mother too, squeezed her hand and wished her luck, but her pale face and the stark terror in her eyes made Charlotte berate herself for so selfishly putting her mum through this. 

“We are selfish, darling,” said Susan. “All sports people are selfish. We want to push ourselves to our limits, whatever the cost to the people around us.”

“I suppose so…” said Charlotte slowly. “But it doesn’t sound very healthy, put like that.”

Susan burst out laughing. “It’s not healthy at all! It’s an addiction. But when you’re out there on your bike, it's the best feeling in the world and that’s why we can’t stop doing it.” 

And Charlotte had to agree. 

\------------------

As the beginning of January - and the start of the rally - grew closer, the press discovered The Falcons. Women had always entered the Dakar, but the media hadn’t taken an interest up to now. In the run-up to Christmas, when papers and TV were hungry for good-news stories, an all women-motorbike team going to the hardest race in the world was gold dust. Journalists were quick to notice that all the women involved were strikingly good-looking and Georgie and her assistant spent an inordinate amount of time refusing requests for exploitative photocalls - everything from them dressed as Christmas elves to naked except for leather g-strings and their helmets. Instead, they accepted interviews for the biking press, an appearance on children’s TV programme, Blue Peter, and on the early evening ‘The One Show.’ While this press attention was exciting in its novelty, Charlotte also found the scrutiny unnerving. She preferred to let her racing speak for her; she knew she had the habit of being too headstrong, too opinionated, and the effort to keep to inanities during these interviews was exhausting.

It was a relief to be able to retreat to her family home for Christmas. The noise and festive cheer was a welcome hiatus before the rally began. Yet while Charlotte was involved in decorating the tree, wrapping presents and playing silly games, part of her mind was already at the race, half desperate for it to start, half terrified that she would fail - that she would discover that she just wasn't mentally strong enough to cope. 

\---------------------

Finally, the date of departure arrived. The bikes, assistance car and lorry containing their equipment had already left - by ship - and the team gathered at Heathrow airport for the flight to Jeddah. In the departures lounge they spotted people from other teams. Charlotte recognised a few faces while Susan chatted to various people she knew. Esther kept to herself, but exchanged hellos. 

On the plane Georgie went through last minute details. Clara and James chatted to other mechanics they knew on the flight. Susan sat with her boyfriend who had come to see them off. Which left Charlotte and Esther together.

“That’s so romantic, Susan’s guy coming along,” said Charlotte, indicating the loved-up couple across the aisle.

Esther rolled her eyes. “No heartsick puppy dog mourning your departure then?” she said.

“No. You?”

“No way. I’m off men.”

“Really? Why?”

“Never met a good one, that’s why. Your problem too?”

“No. I’m sure there’s lots of good men out there. I’ve even been out with some of them. It’s just none of them have been… I don’t know, exciting enough, passionate enough… I want something big, something that makes me feel like I do when I’m on my bike - free and heady…”

Esther was laughing. “You know that kind of relationship doesn’t exist, don’t you?”

Charlotte smiled ruefully. “I know, but there’s no harm dreaming, is there. Would have been nice to have someone to come to Saudi with us to see me off.”

“Your family didn’t want to come?”

“They’d have loved to, but it was too expensive. It’s the problem coming from a big family. Plus if they all stay at home my mum can pretend it’s not really happening. What about you? Was there no one who wanted to see you off.

Esther shook her head. “I don’t speak to anyone in my family. They don’t even know I’m here. You’re lucky having a loving family with no money. I’d swap my wealthy dysfunctional lot for yours any day. Money can tear a family apart.”

Charlotte looked at Esther’s bitter expression and managed to refrain from asking anything further. Instead she said, “How come Georgie can afford to fund this team - do you know?”

“Her father was a multi-millionaire and her mother was a supermodel. She was their only child and inherited the lot.”

“She mentioned a guardian - her parents died then?”

“Yeah. Her mum when she was little and then her dad when she was 16. Her guardian’s actually…” But she didn’t finish what she was saying as the drinks trolley arrived. Esther leaned over Charlotte to order a large gin and tonic. “Might be the last drink I have for two weeks,” she said. “I’m going to make the most of it.” 

Charlotte decided to join her and the rest of the flight was spent drinking and chatting to their two mechanics. 

Finally, the flight landed in Jeddah and they tumbled out into the surprisingly cool night air. They were quickly into taxis and off to their hotel. 

“Get a good night sleep, girls,” said Susan. “Tomorrow’s a busy day. It’s scrutineering all day - so don’t forget your documents - and then we’ve got the competitors’ briefing meeting in the evening. See you down here at 8am - your Dakar experience is about to start.”


	4. Scrutineering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit sweary in this chapter as some of the Sanditon men make their appearance and emotions run high.

The next morning, the Falcons arrived at the scrutineering area. It was huge - all the trucks, cars and bikes were there in long lines, waiting to be examined by the officials. Each vehicle had to reach the exacting standards laid down by the rally organisers, or risk being disqualified before the rally even started. They left Georgie and the mechanics with the bikes, assistance car and lorry - and walked through the lines of vehicles, towards the pavilions housing the administration booths.

“Wow, look at those!” said Charlotte, pointing. 

They looked and saw a row of funny buggy type vehicles. “They’re the lightweight vehicles,” said Susan. “They’re the cheapest category to enter because they’re not too expensive to build and fix. There’s loads of new people entering the Dakar driving them.”

In the first pavilion, Susan said, “You’ve got your rally books - you need to get thirteen stamps in them by the end of the day. And that means you need to work your way round all the booths, answer the questions and go to the tutorials on safety, first aid and navigation. Off you go.”

\-------------------

Outside, five time champion and sponsors’ darling, Sidney Parker, moved reluctantly towards the admin pavilions alongside his friend and teammate, Charles Babbington.

“I hate this,” muttered Sidney.

“I know you do,” replied Babbington. “But it’s part of the Dakar, you know that. The pros and the privateers all being grilled the same.”

“I don’t mind the grilling, it’s the mingling I hate.”

“I like it.”

“I know you do. But you’re a cheerful bastard.”

Babbington looked at his friend in amusement. “You could always try being nice, it wouldn’t kill you. The amateurs love being in the same room as you - you’re their idol. Why not indulge them a bit?”

“Because I’m no idol and you know it. They shouldn’t even be here - it’s too dangerous. You and I both know most of them won’t last the first few days.”

“They do it because it’s exciting.”

“Hmmph,” Sidney snorted. “Or because they’re naive or suicidal, or both.” 

\------------------

Esther and Charlotte headed off. Esther always had the knack of looking like she knew what she was doing, but Charlotte felt like she was dithering. She soon found that the other privateers were friendly and many were as confused as she was. She relaxed and was soon chatting to lots of different competitors, exchanging what little knowledge they had. She loved how the pros and amateurs were all there together, all having to go through the same process. It was one of the things that made the Dakar special - even if the professionals had whole teams there to back them up, they still had to go through scrutineering along with everyone else, and once on the rally they had to fill up their own bikes with petrol and if they broke down on the special stage that took place each day, they had to fix their bike just like the amateurs did.

Charlotte caught up with Esther at the fifth booth of the day.

“Isn’t it exciting!” said Charlotte, her eyes glowing.

“What? Getting your little booklet stamped and answering questions about safety procedure?” said Esther drily.

“No, not that bit. Just being here. And seeing all the other competitors. I spotted Charles Babbington earlier! I was going to speak to him and then someone else got there first.”

Esther rolled her eyes. “You’re just a great big fan at heart, aren’t you?”

“Of course, aren’t you?” Charlotte’s eyes then widened as she spotted a familiar figure. She grabbed hold of Esther’s arm and said, “Oh my god, it’s Sidney Parker. Right there! I’ve got to speak to him, he’s been such a hero to me.”

“No Charlotte, I don’t think that’s a…” said Esther, but she was too late. Charlotte was already on her way.

\-----------------

It was as painful as Sidney had predicted. The scrutineering was fine, he welcomed the interrogations over safety and the minute inspection of his documents. The officials were all very professional, none of them betraying any knowledge that they were dealing with a five time winner, they just treated him like anyone else. If only the privateers would do the same. The ones who had been here before knew to give him a wide berth. But the newbies were always keen to talk to him. He had already had to endure several hearty congratulations, a few autograph collectors, and even a slap on the back. If only they knew how misplaced their enthusiasm for him really was. 

He heard a voice behind him, “Mr Parker, I just want to say…” Sidney turned round and looked down into the open trusting face of a young woman who was talking to him. “... you are such an inspiration to me. I know you’ve been through the most terrible tragedy and yet you are still racing and that has been so helpful to me. Because I too have…” 

“Well, I am _so_ happy that my _tragic_ life has proved of such assistance to you,” he sneered.

“No, that’s not what…” the woman stammered.

Sidney looked into big brown eyes, swimming in tears and muttered, “Oh for fuck’s sake!” before turning away. Bloody hell, he thought, she’s not going to get far in this race if she cries that easily.

\-----------------

Charlotte walked away, stunned by the encounter with her sporting idol. The phrase, ‘you should never meet your heroes’, floated through her mind. But no, it was her fault. She should have thought about what she was going to say first. If a complete stranger had come up to her and started talking about something intimate and painful that had happened to her, she might well have reacted in the same way. She would have to find a way to apologise. She looked for Esther and saw her arguing with a tall man with blond curling hair. 

“What the fucking fuck are _you_ doing here?” Esther was screeching.

The man had his arms crossed and was looking at her with an amused expression on his face. “It’s a pleasure to see you here too, little sis.”

Charlotte joined them and the man looked at her and leered. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your pretty friend?”

“No,” said Esther. “Now fuck off.”

“I’ll be off, things to do. But I’ll see you soon. I’m driving one of those beautiful lightweights you were admiring earlier.”

“You’ve been _spying_ on me?” Esther hissed.

The man just laughed and then walked away.

Charlotte watched him go and then turned to Esther, who was pale, clutching her chest and breathing heavily like she was about to have a panic attack. 

“Esther, shhh,” said Charlotte, rubbing her back. “He’s gone. Just breathe slowly now. It’s ok, everything’s ok…”  


Eventually Esther’s breathing calmed down and some colour came back to her cheeks.

“Was that your brother?” said Charlotte

“Step-brother. I can’t believe it! The last person in the whole fucking world I wanted to see here. If he’s here, I can’t be...”

Charlotte, perturbed, looked at her friend. Esther was always so cool, so confident. She had never seen her this anxious and ruffled before. “Esther, come on, look at me,“ she said. Esther finally looked her in the eye. “I don’t know what’s gone on between you and your step-brother. But I know you now and if you don’t like him, he must be a shit. So we’re going to forget about him and focus on the race ahead. Ok?” Esther nodded. “You’ve prepared really hard for this, you’re not going to let anyone stop you from competing, let alone some shitty little man. Am I right?” Esther nodded again. “Say it out loud,” Charlotte commanded.

“You’re right,” Esther whispered.

“Louder.”

“You’re right,” said Esther and smiled. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

“No problem. Team members, remember. We’ve got each others’ backs.”

\-------------------

By the end of the day the Falcons had had their rally books stamped the regulation thirteen times and had been to all the required tutorials. Georgie was able to report that their bikes, assistance car and lorry had all passed the examiners’ thorough checking. 

“First hurdle over,” said Georgie. “I saw plenty of vehicles that failed, but we’re now officially in the rally. Just the briefing meeting to go.”

As they made their way back to the hotel to have something to eat before the meeting, Charlotte took Susan to one side and said, “I don’t know if Esther’s told you, but I think you should know. Her step-brother’s here and it’s really shaken her. I had to talk her out of leaving.”

Susan shook her head. “Damn! Edward Denham’s a nasty piece of work. Thank you for telling me, Charlotte. We’re going to have to keep an eye on her - and him. Make sure he doesn’t get into her head.”

“What happened between them?”

“She hasn’t told you? No, she wouldn’t. She keeps things too close. Let’s just say he made her think he was in love with her to get his hands on her inheritance.”

“And did he?”

“No. But he really screwed her up. Riding’s her therapy - makes her forget.”

“I won’t let the little shit screw her up again,” said Charlotte, fiercely.

Susan smiled at her. “Nor will I.”

\----------------------

All the competitors were there for the briefing that evening. There were hundreds of people there from all the classes, bikes and quads, cars and lightweights, and the trucks. Babbington was looking around, smiling and waving to people he recognised; Sidney had his head down as usual. 

“I haven’t seen your ward yet,” said Babbington. “Have you?”

“Ex-ward and no, I can’t say I’ve been looking for her.”

“I think it’s cool, her bringing a women’s team here.”

“She’s only doing it to piss me off.”

“I’m sure all her decisions don’t revolve around you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. That’s a woman for whom resentment runs very deep.”

After they had all sat through the rules and regulations that governed the Dakar Rally, the competitors filed out of the hall. As they were waiting to leave the building, Charlotte looked around, making sure that Edward Denham was nowhere nearby. She couldn’t see him, thankfully, but she did spot someone else.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said to Esther.

“Mr Parker, may I have a word?” 

Sidney looked down. It was that woman from earlier. Who was she and why was she talking to him again?

“What I said to you earlier, I expressed myself badly. I am really terribly sorry that I offended you. I hope you won’t think too badly of me.”

There was that sweet trusting expression again, as if he were an exemplary person worth her attention. Time to put her straight.

“Think too badly of you?” He looked at her with surprise. “I don't think of you at all. I don't even know who you are. I therefore have no interest in your approval or disapproval. Quite simply, I don't care what you think or how you feel. Have I made myself clear?”

He saw her turn away and he thought, I’ve made her cry again. But when she turned back to look at him, he was surprised at the steely look in her eyes and the words that dripped with disdain. “If you really don’t care, why bother being so hurtful and offensive. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

Sidney watched her go, surprised by feeling impressed at her retort. He felt Babbington’s hand on his back. “So you’ve met one of your ward’s team then?”

Sidney looked at him, confused. 

“She’s one of Georgie’s lot.”

“Oh fuck.”

Charlotte stomped back to Esther and Susan.

“You've met Sidney Parker, then?” said Susan. “How did you find him?”

Charlotte screwed up her face. “He’s the rudest man I think I’ve ever met! I can’t believe I wasted all that time hero-worshipping him!”

Susan laughed. 

“I did try to warn you earlier,” said Esther. “He’s very unstable and unreliable, by all accounts. I advise you to keep your distance.”

“Don’t worry, I will!”

“Very easy on the eye, though,” said Susan with a smile.

“Is he?” said Charlotte. “Hard to see through that sneer he has plastered all over his face.”

As they left the building, Esther whispered to Susan, “Is it time to tell her about him and Georgie yet?”

“I think she’s cross enough already. Let’s leave that nugget for another day.”


	5. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your great comments on the last chapter! 
> 
> It's the first day of the rally - how will our characters do?
> 
> Just discovered my story has its own hashtag! #FalconsFic Thank you very much to the ladies on twitter.

At long last, the Dakar Rally began. Despite the early hour and the chilly temperature, the streets of Jeddah were thronged with well-wishers ready to cheer off the competitors.

“Good, you’ve got your roadbooks,” said Susan as they waited for their start time.

Charlotte had already inserted the long roll of paper with the navigation instructions and road warnings into its holder between the handlebars. She was rolling through it, trying to take in the first elements of the stage. Esther meanwhile was all fingers and thumbs. “I can’t get this bloody thing in!... Oh fuck, now I’ve torn it!” She glared at Susan. “Now I’ve got no fucking navigation. First day and I’ve already fucked it up!”

“Hey, it’s ok,” said Susan. “Charlotte, are you alright to go first? Then Esther, you can follow, and I’ll be right behind.”

Charlotte looked up, surprised. “If you’re sure? I mean, I haven’t really a clue where we’re going.”

Susan laughed. “No one does. That’s the point of giving us the roadbook right before the stage. It’s dual carriageway first until we hit the off-road tracks. We’re not going to get lost today.”

“Alright then.”

Georgie approached them. “How are you all doing?” she said.

“Bit apprehensive, but mainly excited,” said Charlotte.

“Just want it to start now,” Esther murmured.

“Listen, I am so proud of you! Be safe. And don’t forget, we're right behind you if there’s any problems.”

“Just for the first part,” Esther muttered. “Then we’re on our own.”

Susan looked at her, concerned. “We haven’t got the mechanics, but we’ve got each other. And we’re sticking together.” 

\--------------

Up by the start ramp, Sidney was on his bike and ready to go. As last year’s winner he would be the first to set off on this year’s race. 

“I think you forgot something,” said Simon, his ex-brother-in-law and current team manager, handing him a gold wedding ring.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! It’s been years - and it’s not even her ring.”

“You’ll put it on and bloody well make a good show of kissing it before you go. The sponsors love it, as you well know. ” 

Sidney stuffed the ring on his finger. 

\--------------------

“Look, the elite riders are about to go!” said Susan, pointing. 

Charlotte watched as Sidney Parker sat on his bike at the top of the start ramp. His name and team were announced over the loudspeaker and cheers broke out from the thousands of people who had gathered to see the start of the race. Then she saw him pull off his glove, lift his hand to his mouth and kiss his dead wife’s wedding ring before setting off down the ramp and the road ahead. His wife must have been a bloody saint to put up with him, Charlotte brooded.

Next was Charles Babbington, last year’s runner-up, followed - one by one - by the 25 best motorcyclists in the rally. These were the riders that the press and fans would follow - one of them would finally be crowned the winner at the end of the rally, in almost two weeks time. For the two hundred other biking competitors, like the Falcons, it would all be about getting to the end.

Charlotte turned round and saw Esther standing by her bike, staring into space.

“Are you ok?” said Charlotte.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” Esther snapped.

“It’s just, I’ve never seen you like this before. You’re usually so calm and in control.”

“Just shows you don’t know me very well,” Esther muttered.

Charlotte looked round for Susan and saw her being hugged and kissed by her boyfriend. Charlotte suddenly felt very alone. Even bloody Sidney Parker had the memory of his late wife to see him off. _You’re not on your own, I’m here with you_ , said a voice in her head. It was Peter. _You said you were doing it for both of us, so here I am, and I’ll be with you every step of the way_. Charlotte smiled and whispered, “Thank you.”

Every thirty seconds, another competitor or team was waved up on the start ramp, and eventually it was the turn of the Falcons. The loudspeaker introduced them as the rally’s first all-women team and a roar of cheering came from the crowd. The three of them looked at each other and grinned - even Esther - and then the official yelled, “Go!” and they rolled down the ramp and were off.

Charlotte led the way, the crowds on either side cheering and clapping as they passed. It was thrilling and despite the cold early morning air, Charlotte felt warmed by the waves of enthusiasm that surrounded her. Before long they were out of the city and heading off down a dual carriageway. It was still dark and the chilly air whipped at her hands and face. She wanted to put her foot down and just speed off, but knew it was important to ride well within her limits - Susan had drummed this into them over and over again: “If you go flat out from the start, you’ll burn yourself out and not reach the end.” Moreover, they had to stay together. She took a quick look round and saw her teammates behind her, each wearing a differently coloured falcon on their crash helmet.

An hour later, just as the sun was creeping up over the horizon, they turned off the road and joined the queue for the special stage. This was where the support cars and mechanics would leave them. The next 300km would be over stony dusty tracks where, if they broke down, it would be up to them to fix the problem and carry on.

The official at the start of the special stage counted down for Charlotte, “Three, two, one…” and she was off onto the real part of the rally. The sand stretched for miles with just clumps of trees and camel grass to break the monotony. The space and the light encouraged her to speed off into the distance, but she remembered again to keep within her limits. This was not a problem when the bikes started kicking up dust. The air was thick with it and with no wind it just hung there making it impossible to see anything clearly. Anything except a bike overtaking her at speed, which Charlotte could have sworn was Esther from the glimpse of fluorescent green that she spotted through the murk. She’s going too quickly, Charlotte thought, and she hasn't got her road book. Not that Charlotte could see anything her roadbook was telling her. She just had to trust her compass. Before long, it wasn’t just the bikes producing dust, but the cars which came roaring out of nowhere, forcing her to swerve to the side. The cars had an alarm system which meant they could alert the bikes when they were approaching, but it still didn’t give the bikes much time to get out of the way. 

This was not the riding Charlotte had either expected or enjoyed. It was like riding in thick fog in the middle of a busy motorway. She was gripping the handlebars so hard her knuckles ached and she could feel sweat dripping down her back. _It’s ok, you’re doing fine_ , came Peter’s voice. _Relax, breathe, and focus, you’ve got this_. She obeyed her brother’s instructions and eventually the dust settled and she could see the first checkpoint ahead. She stopped with relief, and drank greedily from one of her water canisters. 

“Well done, Charlotte!” said Susan, stopping next to her. “You’re doing brilliantly. That was really hard.”

“Where’s Esther? I don’t see her,” said Charlotte, looking around. “She just sped off! I’m worried she’s going to have an accident.”

Susan simply shrugged. They looked up as some more of the cars shot through - their noise and speed was stunning, like watching and hearing a jet engine take off. 

The next part was gravel and there was less dust. Charlotte could now go quicker and she started to enjoy herself. The scenery was spectacular, the track was taking them up and down between rocky hills - in the distance she could see what looked like mountains. She wished she could be alone in this landscape. She was keeping to a good steady speed, but plenty of bikes were still overtaking her. She wondered if she was going too slowly, but Susan was behind her and if she wanted her to go quicker, she would have caught up with her and told her so. She found herself wondering what it was like to be one of the elite riders - Sidney Parker for example - going first with no other vehicles around to disturb him, just being at one with his bike and the warm air and endless space.

Every few miles she passed a biker on the side of the road, either working on their bike or just sitting with their head in their hands. She often felt like stopping and helping - competitors were allowed to help each other - but there were too many. She’d never finish if she stopped and helped everyone. But she kept looking out for Esther, worried that at the speed she had been going, she would have come off her bike by now. And eventually, her fears became true when she saw Esther crouched down by her bike with her toolkit open. Charlotte pulled up and walked over.

“You ok? What happened?”

Esther looked up and then saw Susan also stopping.

“It was stupid. I just fell and the bike banged along the road. Got a hole in my petrol tank.”

“Luckily there’s a refuelling point just a few ks from here,” said Susan. “Need a hand?”

“No, I’m good. Almost fixed.”

“We’ll wait and ride together.”

Esther gave her a grateful smile and soon the three of them were riding as a team, once again.

\--------------------

Sidney Parker rode through the stage finish and immediately asked for his time. “3 hours, 21, 33,” said the official. Sidney grinned. It was a good time, he knew that. A host of journalists rushed over, poking their microphones at him. 

“How was it out there?”

“How are you feeling?”

“What does tomorrow hold?”

He answered their questions as best he could and then sped off into the overnight campsite known as the bivouac. This was not like any other campsite - it was a vast sprawling temporary village of tents, housing a canteen, field hospital, media centre, and hundreds of makeshift garages that moved on every day. The privateers had to make do with sleeping in one-person tents and queuing up at the shower block. The elite riders who were part of factory teams had motorhomes to sleep and wash in. Sidney found the plot of ground his team had taken for the night. His bike immediately went to the mechanics to be checked over while he was debriefed by his chief engineer and team manager. Then it was time for a shower and a massage from his physio, during which time Babbington came in and laid down on the other massage bed. They discussed times, terrain, and their bikes while the physios pounded out the stresses and strains riding 300kms at top speed over rocks and sand had inflicted on their bodies.

\---------------

Several hours after the elite riders had arrived at the bivouac, the privateers started to trail in.

“Eight hours 23, is really not bad,” said Susan. “I expect a lot of bikes will be out today and we’re all still here.”

“Well done!” cried Georgie. “We’re getting news of a lot of accidents and injuries out there today. I was getting worried.”

“No casualties, just one bust fuel tank,” reported Susan.

The mechanics took the bikes and immediately started inspecting them.

“So this is home for the night,” said Esther looking around. Their lorry, with all the spare parts, was parked up next to the assistance car. And next to them was a row of one-person pop-up tents.

“It’s not the Ritz, but it’ll do,” smiled Susan.

Charlotte stretched. “I’m exhausted, dirty and starving - I don’t know what to do first.”

Georgie handed her a cereal bar. “Eat this, then you can take a shower, but first tell me what it was like to ride out there.”

Charlotte stuffed the bar into her mouth, and then looked at Georgie’s eager face. She told her about the dust, the relief of the gravel, the speed she wanted to do and the speed she kept to, the terror of the cars and the excitement at reaching the finish.

Georgie listened to it all, her eyes watching Charlotte’s mouth, greedy for the next instalment. “I wish I’d been there with you,” she sighed wistfully at the end. “It sounds amazing!”

“Which bit - the almost being killed by a mad car driver or the riding through a dust storm?” Charlotte asked, amused.

“All of it.” 

She looked so sad that Charlotte gave her a hug and whispered in her ear, “He was a stupid arse, your guardian. You’d have been a brilliant rider.”

“Thank you,” Georgie said with feeling. “Now go take that shower, you’re filthy!”

Charlotte laughed, peeled off her leathers and headed off to the shower block while Esther talked to the mechanics about her bike and Susan told Georgie more about their day. In the shower, she watched as the water streamed over her body and turned brown as it drained away. Even covered from head to foot in helmet, jacket, pants, underlayers, boots and gloves, the dust had still managed to get into every crevice of her body. She thought about Georgie and felt anger on her behalf that she hadn’t been allowed to ride. It had been a difficult day, but she had loved it. If she were told she could never ride again, it would feel like having a limb amputated. The thought made her suddenly aware of the aches and pains her body had sustained from hours of riding and knew she needed a good stretch before having any dinner. 

On the way back to her team’s site she took in the hustle and bustle of the bivouac. Teams of mechanics were working on bikes, competitors were chatting, swapping war stories. She could see the big team’s encampments and noted wryly the motorhomes parked up. Back at her little tent, Charlotte immediately started her yoga practice. The whirr of generators and the banging of tools faded as, eyes closed, she went through the different positions, focussing on her long slow breathing and feeling her muscles stretch and realign. She came to the end, kept her eyes closed for one more moment, feeling refreshed and centred, before opening them and seeing James, their mechanic watching her. He smiled and she smiled back.

“You were in your own little world there,” he said.

“Mmm, yes, I was.”

“I used to do a bit of yoga. Maybe I could join you another time.”

“You’d be very welcome.”

\------------------

Sidney and Babbington made their way over to the canteen. Even if the competitors' sleeping arrangements varied according to their status, there was no differentiation when it came to eating - they all ate together. Since the organisation running the rally was French, the food was always good. As they queued up to help themselves from the vats of rich meat stew, rice, vegetables and bread, Babbington caught Sidney looking around.

“Apparently there’s already fifty bikes out today, “ he said.

“Un huh.”

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

Sidney would never have admitted it, even to himself, but he was looking for someone. When he saw her sitting at a table, eating and chatting to two other women, he felt himself relax. He hadn’t realised he had been worried about her until then. But the fact that she had survived the first day and still seemed in one piece, was a huge relief. Babbington looked to see what or who Sidney was gazing at. 

“Want to go eat with them?” he said, smiling.

“What? No!”

“Why not? I wouldn’t mind a chat with that redhead your friend’s talking to,” he grinned.

“Firstly, she’s not my friend. And secondly, I don’t want to run into Georgiana. Oh fuck, and there she is.” Sidney quickly turned round, grabbed some food and headed as far away from the women’s table as he could.

\----------------

Because it was the first night of the rally, the organisers had lit a bonfire and invited a group of bedouin musicians to perform. Esther was keen to return to her tent - she was constantly nervous about bumping into Edward. Susan and Georgie went with her, but Charlotte stayed, enjoying the warmth of the fire in the cold night air and the hypnotic drumming of the white-clad bedouins.

“Did you have a good first day?” a deep voice next to her asked. She turned round and saw Sidney Parker standing there by the fire. She looked into his face, the firelight shining on his dark brown eyes. She felt a sudden desire to tell him everything, about the dust, the fear, the excitement and then to ask him what it was like to go first, what it felt like to be a pro. But then she remembered their last two encounters and the words she was about to say dried up in her mouth.

“That’s a strange question from someone who said - just yesterday, I believe - that they had no interest in anything I had to say.”

Sidney looked at her glaring at him and couldn't help but notice how the firelight made her big brown eyes glow.

“Maybe I was a little abrupt. But I would really like to know how you’re finding the rally.” he offered her a half-smile in apology. It wasn’t enough.

“You’ve berated me twice already, I’m not keen on it happening a third time. If you want to have a go at someone, find someone else, or better still, maybe you could learn to be polite.” 

And with that she turned and walked away, too quickly to be able to hear his quiet reply, “You’re right, maybe I should.”


	6. The Dakar Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your enthusiasm for this story! It's really lovely to get so many fantastic comments.
> 
> Hope you like this chapter - Sidney's about to do something surprising...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter, 'The Dakar Spirit', refers to a real concept, not one that I've made up. It comes from the person who originally devised the rally, Jean-Claude Bertrand, who said that the spirit of the race and the required spirit of the competitors was this “…you have to help each other, if you don’t you won’t make it.”

It was day four of the rally and Sidney waited his turn to set off. He was having to be patient, the order had been reversed and he would be the last away. He could see Georgie’s team ahead of him and they were all still there. He was impressed - of the 225 riders who had started off in Jeddah, 70 were already out of the race. He knew one of the Falcons slightly - Susan Worcester. She was a formidable rider and they were in good hands with her. Georgiana had done well getting her onboard. 

Sidney sighed heavily. He wished he could make it up with his ex-ward, but he was afraid there was too much resentment on her part for that to ever happen. He had only done what he had been told to do, but… He let the thought drift. That was his problem, doing what he was told and not what he wanted. Bloody Simon and his preservation of his dead sister’s memory - his dead wife’s memory. Simon and Eliza were so alike, it was scary. He looked up and saw the woman with the beautiful brown eyes getting closer to the start. There was someone else he would like to apologise to, but after their last encounter, he wasn’t sure how. He liked that she had told him off. Eliza used to tell him off, but for things he hadn’t done. This woman had got straight to the nub of his rude behaviour and pulled him up on it. Instead of it annoying him, he found himself intrigued.

\--------------- 

Charlotte stood and looked down the line of bikes waiting for the start. She was worried about Esther. Her team-mate was becoming obsessed with the thought her step-brother was spying on her. But maybe it wasn’t all in Esther’s imagination as Charlotte could have sworn she too had glimpsed Edward lurking behind their lorry. Esther’s riding was getting more erratic and she was going too fast. Charlotte worried that something bad was going to happen. They rarely managed to ride as a team anymore. Instead of riding with Charlotte - the least experienced of the three - Susan was trying to stick with Esther, in case she had an accident. 

Susan came over and gave Charlotte some last minute advice, a squeeze of the arm and yet another apology for leaving her to ride on her own. Then it was Susan and Esther’s turn to set off. Charlotte, who was riding a lot slower, had to wait a bit longer before she too was on her way. The track soon led to huge sand dunes. There had been dunes the day before but not as high as these. Charlotte was nervous about tackling them on her own, but she remembered her training in Dubai. She watched a rider in front of her go up and over and she followed, soon getting the hang of it and enjoying the feeling of cresting over each peak of sand and seeing the golden dunes spreading out before her. Not everyone was doing so well and at the top of each dune she could see bikes stuck in the sand. But there was no sign of Esther or Susan. At the first checkpoint she asked how far ahead her teammates were, but the official told her they hadn’t arrived yet. Expecting that a mistake had been made, since she hadn’t spotted their fluorescent helmets so far, she continued on to the next part of the stage - a stony track between towering square-shaped cliffs of rock. So many bikes seemed to have got stuck in the dunes that she rode for a while completely on her own, enjoying the sense of being somewhere completely alien. 

Up ahead, Charlotte spotted a rider lying down by the track, their bike on one side. Her heart almost stopped when she saw green fluorescent marking on the helmet. She came to a halt and crouched down by the prone figure. She could see that it wasn’t Esther after all, but now she had stopped, she wasn’t going to leave until she made sure the person was alright.

“Can I help you?” she said. “Are you hurt?”

The rider slowly sat up and shook their head. They lifted the flap on their helmet and Charlotte could see it was a man, younger than her. “I’ve had it,” he said. “I just can’t go on any further.” His voice was exhausted.

“I know it’s hard, but you’ve come this far. Be a shame to stop now.”

“Bike’s fucked anyway.”

“Why don’t I have a look at your bike, see if I can fix it. And you can have a rest.” 

The man grunted and lay back down again while Charlotte got to work, examining what was wrong with the bike.

\------------------

For Sidney, starting at the back was fascinating. He could see now why so many bikes crashed out in the early stages. Anyone could have an accident, but he saw riders taking the dunes too quickly or not looking where they were going. He was relieved not to see the woman’s fluorescent yellow crash helmet next to a bike stuck in the sand. He knew nothing about her, but he wanted to believe she was a good rider. 

On the next stage, however, he spotted her crouched down by a bike, toolkit open by her side. Without thinking, he came to a halt beside her and said, “Are you ok? Can I help?”

She looked up at him in surprise, realising who he was and then pointed to a young man sitting on the ground to one side.“His caliper’s bust. I think I’ve almost fixed it, but he says he can’t go on.”

Sidney climbed off his bike, took off his helmet and sat down next to the man, who was staring at the ground between his outstretched legs.

“How are you doing?” he said.

The man shook his bent head. “I’ve had it, man. It’s just too hard.”

“You’re right, it is too hard. But that’s why we do it.”

The man looked up and realised who was talking to him. “Aren’t you…?” he stammered.

“Yep, that’s me. Listen, everyone has rough days on this rally, even me. You’ve just got to plough on and wait for a good day.”

“But I’m worn out now. And, god, I hurt all over.”

“I bet you’ve been going full tilt every day.”

The man nodded.

“Just slow down a bit and it’ll be easier. Do less to do more, that’s the way to cope.”

The woman stood up and came over. “It’s all fixed.”

“Seems a shame to give up now you’ve had your bike seen to,” Sidney said, smiling.

The young man looked first at him, then at the woman and then back again and slowly rose to his feet.

“Thank you, to both of you. I’ll give it another go.”

They held the bike for him and he gingerly got on, kicked the throttle and was off.

Sidney held his hand out to the woman. “Hello, I’m Sidney.”

She laughed, shook his hand and said, “I know who you are.” 

“You’ve called me Mr Parker up to now. Makes me feel like my dad.”

“It seemed too familiar to call you by your first name when I’d never met you before.”

“It doesn’t seem to stop anyone else,” he said ruefully. 

“I’m Charlotte. Charlotte Heywood.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Charlotte.” 

He smiled at her and she smiled back, a sweet wide smile that made his heart glow. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The thought of the race, the desert, the bikes faded away and he lost himself in her big brown eyes, a loopy grin plastered over his face. It could have been seconds or hours but finally she said, “Shouldn’t you be off? Haven’t you a rally to win?”

Reality flooded back, but he still found himself unable to move. “I’ve only stopped a few minutes, it’ll be fine.”

She tilted her head to one side. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Well then.”

“Well then.” 

They grinned at each other and then Charlotte got on her bike and rode away.

\----------------

Charlotte wasn’t sure what had just happened. Was that the same Sidney Parker who had been so rude to her the other day or did he have an identical twin? His smile had made her feel like fireworks were going off in her stomach. She saw him ride past, giving her a salute, before speeding off into the distance. She hoped he hadn’t lost too much time. He had been so kind to that rider. People talked about ‘the Dakar spirit’, where competitors helped each other, but she wasn’t sure that extended to the five times winner sitting down beside the road to give a pep talk to an exhausted amateur rider. Whatever had just happened, she was relieved and happy that her former admiration of him hadn’t been misplaced after all. He was one of the good guys, and his wife had obviously been a truly lovely woman for him to be so devoted to her memory. Although the way he had looked at her didn’t suggest he was solely wedded to his late wife… Charlotte laughed. Concentrate on the race, she chided herself, stop having daft thoughts about unattainable biking legends. 

\------------------

Sidney sped through the rest of the stage, feeling ridiculously happy. He wasn’t sure what had happened there at the side of the road, but it had felt momentous. And it hadn’t just been meeting Charlotte properly, he realised - it had felt nice to be nice to that guy. Maybe there was something to this Dakar spirit business after all. Sidney had never gone out of his way to help anyone before on this rally. Maybe Babbington - and Charlotte - were right. Maybe it was time to be a nicer person. It would certainly piss off his dear departed wife and that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

\-----------------

At the stage finish, Sidney asked for his time and wasn’t surprised that it was several minutes down on what he had originally hoped for. What did surprise him was the fact he didn’t feel particularly unhappy about it. He was usually obsessed with his times, but now it didn’t seem to be of the most overwhelming importance. The journalists approached him warily, expecting him to snap at them when they asked him about it. Their looks of astonishment when he airily said he could make up the time tomorrow, told him all he needed to know about how he usually treated them.

Sidney’s good mood lasted until he entered the bivouac and was faced with an irate Simon.

“Your time was crap today!” he thundered. “What was going on? You need to pull your finger out and really step up a gear tomorrow!”

“For fuck’s sake Simon, it was just a few minutes.”

“ _A few minutes!_ Who are you and what have you done with the real Sidney Parker? You’d normally be as upset as me.”

Sidney shrugged and went back to his motorhome where he took a shower and then went to have his massage. Babbington was already there, stretched out on one of the tables. He looked up in surprise when Sidney came in.

“Where have you been?”

“Not you too. Simon’s just bawled me out.” Sidney smiled at his physio and climbed onto the other massage table.

“I’m not having a go,” said Babbington. “I’m delighted. I got to win a stage for a change.”

“Good for you.”

Babbington looked at him suspiciously, expecting the remark to be sarcastic. Instead Sidney was beaming at him.

“What’s going on? You’re in a remarkably good mood.”

“I just had a couple of revelations while I was out there today, that’s all,” said Sidney before dropping his head down and letting the physio get to work on his shoulders. 

The massage was coming to an end and Sidney was feeling nicely relaxed when Simon burst in, shouting, “There’s a rumour going round that you stopped on the stage to give some amateur a word of encouragement. In the name of all that’s holy, please tell me someone’s suffering from desert madness and it was just a mirage.”

Babbington, whose massage had just finished, stood and stared at Sidney in astonishment. Sidney raised his head and looked at both of them. “So what if I did?” he said cooly. “It’s called the Dakar spirit.”

\--------------------

Walking to the canteen, Sidney was surprised by the number of smiles and comments directed his way. After the umpteenth,“Nice one” he turned to Babbington and said, “I don’t know whether to be pleased so many people suddenly seem to like me or disturbed that one tiny piece of good will on my part can produce so much praise.” 

“I think it’s rather that they’re flabbergasted the cold aloof Sidney Parker actually has a heart after all.”

“I always had a heart,” Sidney muttered. “It was just buried under a load of bad temper.”

In the canteen, Sidney kept looking around, trying to spot Charlotte. He felt a need to be near her, to talk to her once again. But he couldn’t see her or any of her teammates. While they were eating, a young man with shaggy light brown hair came up to their table and said, “You see, I’m still here!”

Sidney looked at him blankly before finally recognising him as the rider from the side of the road.

“I’m pleased,” he said warmly.

“It’s thanks to you. I can’t tell you what it meant for you to stop and talk to me like that. And to that lady. I wanted to thank her again too but I haven’t seen her around. I don’t even know her name.”

“It’s Charlotte Heywood,” said Sidney, “and you’re right I haven’t seen her either.”

“I hope she’s ok,” said the man. “Anyway if you see her before I do, thank her again for me, won’t you?” 

He turned and left and Babbington looked at his friend knowingly. “So her name’s Charlotte then?”

“Fuck off,” Sidney said, but there was no heat in his words. Instead he was looking around once again with a heavy feeling of disappointment that she wasn’t there mixed with an icy needle of fear that something bad had happened to her.


	7. Three Becomes Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments on the last chapter! Now we find out what has happened to our team...

Charlotte’s good mood ended when she reached her team’s camp in the bivouac. She found Georgie pacing and James and Clara sitting on the ground with nothing to do.

“Aren’t they back yet?” Charlotte said, taking off her helmet.

“According to the read-out, they’re a long way away and going too slowly,” said James, taking her bike. “We’re thinking either one of them’s injured or maybe something’s happened to their bike.”

“I was worried about something like this,” said Charlotte. “I kept looking out for them, but I didn’t see them.”

“They probably got lost then,” said Georgie. “Shit, I’m worried. It’s getting dark.”

Charlotte and Georgie looked at each other, trying not to panic. So far, the three riders had managed to get to the bivouac before nightfall. They had all heard the horror stories about trying to navigate the desert in the dark.

“Susan knows what she’s doing, she’ll get them both back here in one piece,” said Charlotte, sounding more confident than she felt.

“You go and get something to eat,” said Georgie.

“I’d rather not leave you - anyway, I’ve suddenly got no appetite,” said Charlotte. 

James and Clara worked on Charlotte’s bike, making sure it was ready for another day out in the harsh desert environment. James then encouraged Charlotte to join him with what had become their usual yoga workout together. He even managed to get Georgie and Clara to join them, to help them relax and pass the time. After they had a good stretch and were feeling a little calmer, James went off to the canteen and came back with some food for Charlotte, insisting she had to eat something.

“You take such good care of me,” she said to him, smiling. “Of all of us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said smiling back.

Charlotte wanted to stay up, but knew she would have to be up at 5am for one of the longest days of the rally. Overwhelmed by tiredness, Charlotte eventually crawled into her tent and fell asleep. She was woken at 1am by the return of Susan and Esther. 

“We need to get Susan to the medical tent, “ she heard Esther say. Poking her head out of the tent she saw a very pale Susan clutching her hand.

“I’ll take her,” said Georgie firmly. “You need some rest.”

Esther looked like she was about to disobey, but Susan said wearily, “It’s fine, Esther. Sleep, you’ve got to be up again in a few hours.”

“But you’ll be riding too…” Esther said and her tone sounded pleading.

Susan shrugged and then grimaced with pain. “We’ll see what the doctor says.”

Georgie led Susan away and Esther sat down by her tent as James and Clara started working on the bikes.

“It’s all my fault,” wailed Esther. “I took a dune too quickly and fell over the front of my handlebars. Susan rode down to check on me and because she was focussed on me, she didn’t notice the car that came skidding over the dune. I saw it coming, but before I could say anything, it had nearly hit her. She jumped out the way and her bike landed on top of her. If the car had hit her, she’d be dead!” 

“And what about you? Were you hurt too?” asked Charlotte, concerned.

“Just bruises. You know what? The bastard didn’t even stop. But if I hadn’t been so careless, she wouldn’t have been in his way in the first place.”

Charlotte reached out and squeezed her hand sympathetically.

“We started riding again, but it was obvious Susan was in a lot of pain. I told her to follow me, that I would navigate. And then of course I read the roadmap wrong and got us lost. And then it got dark. Oh god, Charlotte, it was a nightmare.”

“But you made it back, Esther. That’s a real achievement!”

“Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like a bloody disaster and all because I was so stupid.”

“No one said this was going to be easy. It’s the hardest rally in the world, remember. Beating yourself up isn’t going to help anyone. Accidents happen, but you found your way back. And whatever happens with Susan, you and I will be riding in a few short hours. So get in your tent, lie down and think of good things.”

Esther looked at her friend gratefully, pulled off her leathers and lay down in her tent. Charlotte lay down as well and tried to get some more sleep. Despite her confident words to Esther, she felt a low rumble of panic that Susan would be out of the race and it would be up to her to keep Esther in it.

Eventually Charlotte fell back to sleep, but almost as soon as she had it was time to get up again. In the cold dark morning air, she learned that Susan had broken her left wrist, several fingers in her right hand and cracked a couple of ribs. She was out of the race.

“I’m so sorry, girls,” she said. “I’m going to have to leave you. I can’t sleep in a tent, it hurts too much to bend over. I’m going to fly back to Jeddah - my boyfriend’s going to meet me there - and we’ll be there to see you cross the finish line. The two of you are going to have to look out for each other now. I’m counting on you both to finish this rally for me.”

“That’s right,” added Georgie. “I know we originally said we would prioritise Esther and use your bike, Charlotte if we needed it. But we’ve got Susan’s bike now. We’re giving you both equal status. We want you both over that line at the end. Ok?”

Esther and Charlotte looked at each other. Charlotte gave Esther an encouraging smile and Esther reciprocated.

“We’ll give it our best shot,” said Charlotte.

“That’s all we’re asking for.”

\-----------------

It was easier said than done. In two days time it would be the rest day. But before that, were the two toughest days in the rally so far: 800kms each day, starting early each morning in the pitch black; arriving at the next bivouac late at night in the dark again; and in between tackling high sand dunes, rocky passes, and fast gravel tracks. Susan’s accident seemed to have sobered Esther and she rode more steadily, keeping close to Charlotte and taking turns navigating. Charlotte was relieved by this, because she was sure she would not have been able to cope otherwise. 

As it was, these two days showed Charlotte why the Dakar was so difficult to complete. Up to now, she had been alright. She had managed to eat and rest, had not fallen off, had not damaged her bike, and had actually enjoyed most of the riding. Now, she entered a permanent nightmare where she started with not enough sleep nor enough to eat. The resulting fatigue led to mistakes. She fell off her bike, sustained bruises, the pain of which added to the tiredness which led to more mistakes, more falls. Her bike kept getting stuck in the sand and each time she had to dig it out, the bike seemed to grow heavier. The cars were still whizzing past, creating terror in their wake. 

By nightfall on the first of these two days, they still had 200kms to ride in the cold night air. She couldn’t think of anything except wanting to just stop and lie down and go to sleep. Why was she even doing this? _Because you can_ , came Peter’s voice. “ _Come on, you’ve got this. This is the test you wanted. If you give up, you failed. And then what? Could you live with yourself if you gave up?_ ” 

“No,” she whispered.

“ _Right then, just focus on the next bit of track. Don’t think too far ahead. Just focus, and you’ll soon get through._ ”

And she did focus and she did finally arrive at the bivouac. Georgie looked relieved to see them, but James had a big warm smile and a cheery, “I knew you’d be back!”

He took the bike from her, but instead of starting work on it immediately as Clara then did with Esther’s bike, he sat down with Charlotte and said, “I know you’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep, but why don’t we do a couple of yoga stretches together first.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t start work on my bike, you’re going to have no sleep tonight. You still have to drive to the next bivouac in a few hours.”

“Don’t worry about me. This is about you. Come on. Shall we do ‘the cat’ first? Get those aches out of your back…”

And together they moved and stretched and Charlotte felt her aching exhausted body start to feel a little better. James then handed her some energy bars which she bolted down before stretching out in her tent. She woke up what seemed like five minutes later, and set off once again. 

On the second day, Charlotte became a dirty sack of sensation. Cold dark air was followed by hot desert sun. Shivery goosebumps then streams of sweat. Up, up, up mountainous golden sand dunes, slither down the other side, repeat and then repeat. Get stuck. Force protesting muscles to dig bike out. Climb back on, repeat and repeat. Parched mouth, dry lips, cool water to drink. Stuff down yet another cereal bar. Keep going. Ignore the bruises, the cracked fingers, the screaming muscles. Keep going. 

And finally, at 2am on the seventh day of the rally, Charlotte and Esther rode into the bivouac. They climbed off their bikes, gave each other a weary grin, climbed into their tents and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've let Susan off quite gently with her injuries. Amongst all the horror stories that surround the Dakar is the one of Hubert Auriol who was leading the rally when on the penultimate day he fell off his bike. He got back on and rode the final 20kms in excruciating pain - when he arrived it turned out he had fractured both ankles so badly the bone was sticking out. He didn't complete the rally either.


	8. The Rest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know after the last chapter some of you wanted to see more interaction between Sidney and Charlotte. Well, be careful what you wish for... Here's the not so restful rest day.

Charlotte woke up at midday and crawled out of her tent. Esther emerged from hers at the same time.

“If I’m as filthy as you look,” said Esther. “We need to hit the showers pronto.”

“Here, have one of these first,” said Georgie, rummaging in a bag. “You must be starving.”

“If I eat another cereal bar - or even have to look at one - I think I might vomit,” replied Esther.

“You and me both,” laughed Charlotte. “I want to feel clean first and then I want a big plate of proper food. And when on earth did we last change our clothes?”

“Feels like sometime last century. Right let’s get to those showers.” 

After a hot shower and a change of clothes, Charlotte and Esther were ready for lunch. They were just about to leave for the canteen when they heard Georgie, who was sitting at her laptop, exclaim, “That man is unbelievable!”

“What man?” said Charlotte.

“Sidney Parker.”

Charlotte, suddenly interested, said, “What’s he done?”

“I heard this rumour and I had to check. Listen to this,” she read from the screen: “Sidney Parker has come thundering back to win the last two stages of the Dakar Rally after losing time on stage four, after stopping to help a fellow competitor. ‘I was suddenly overcome with feelings of loss as I remembered my dear late wife,’ Parker said, ‘and then I saw this young rider on the side of the track. It looked like he was as forlorn as I was feeling so I stopped, fixed his bike for him and helped him back on his way. I must say it helped me feel better to help someone else. But that’s the Dakar spirit for you, that’s what makes the rally so special.’” Georgie looked up and saw Charlotte frowning.

“That’s not what happened,” she said, confused.

Georgie looked at Charlotte, surprised. “No, I know it’s not, but how do you know that? You’ve barely been in the bivouac for days.”

“Because it was me who fixed the bike. Sidney then stopped to see if he could help and then had a chat with the guy.”

“So why did Sidney stop? I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I don’t know him and I don’t know why he stopped. It just seemed like he was being kind.”

“ _Kind_? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Listen Charlotte, I’m telling you, you can’t trust that man.”

“How do you know him then?”

“He was my guardian.”

Charlotte reeled back. “Sidney Parker is the man who wouldn’t let you ride?”

“Yes he is. He’s a sexist pig who doesn’t think women should ride motorbikes. No wonder he claimed to have fixed that bike - he couldn’t have admitted a woman did it.”

Charlotte turned pale. She should have relied on her first instincts about the man, that he was both cold and impolite. How could she have been so duped? She and Esther started to walk towards the canteen.

“Did you know he was Georgie’s guardian?” said Charlotte.

“I did, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You already disliked him - there didn’t seem any need to give you more ammunition against him.”

“I know. But then when we met over that guy who’d broken down, he seemed alright. Well, more than alright - really nice, actually.”

“That’s men for you, you can’t trust any of them.”

“No. I’m beginning to think you’re right,” said Charlotte sadly.

\--------------------

“Why is everyone looking at me so strangely?” said Sidney as they sat down in the canteen.

“I have no idea,” said Babbington. “Have you been rude to anyone recently?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve actually been making an effort to be nice.”

“Well, you’ve obviously pissed someone off - those two over there are looking daggers at you.”

Sidney looked up, but instead of seeing the two riders Babbington had indicated, he saw instead Charlotte and her red-headed teammate sit down with huge plates of food in front of them. He hadn’t seen her since they had met out in the desert, but had heard that Susan Worcester was injured and out of the rally. His heart lifted to see her once again and still in the race, despite the previous two gruelling days. 

“Shall we join them?” said Babbington, noticing who his friend was looking at. “Oh, someone else has got there first…”

\------------------

“Still here, little sis,” said a figure that suddenly appeared at their table. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Esther looked up at her step-brother and started to shake uncontrollably. 

Charlotte, looked over at her friend, then up at yet another disappointing man, and finally snapped. “Fuck off!” she shouted.

Edward Denham stepped back, surprised at this unlikely outburst from a complete stranger. Then he smiled. “Feisty one, aren’t you? I _like_ you. Bet you’re fun in the sack.”

Charlotte stood up and was hit by the alcohol fumes emanating from the man. “How _dare_ you speak to me like that! You’re a fucking disgusting bully. Just leave us both alone!”

Edward’s expression tightened and he hissed, “You nasty little bitch. I’ll have you…”

He drew back his fist and then suddenly found both his arms pinned back by a man on each side of him.

“You’re coming with us!” said Babbington. And he and Sidney marched him out of the tent.

Charlotte sat back down, shaking. “Are you ok?” she asked Esther.

“Yes, and you? Are you alright? I thought he was going to hit you.”

Charlotte shook her head and took a sip of water.

“Thank you Charlotte, for standing up for me,” Esther said, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand.

“Bloody men!” said Charlotte with a snort. “I’d just had enough.”

“Clearly,” said Esther with some of her old sarcasm. But then her tone softened. “You were impressive. You’ve been impressive this whole rally. I can’t believe I ever doubted you. I ride to escape the memories of that man, so when I’m forced to see him, I fall apart. But you... you’re just brave - on the bike and off.”

Charlotte looked at her, surprised and touched. Before she could reply, however, Sidney and Babbington returned and sat down with them.

“Are you alright, Charlotte?” Sidney said, his voice full of concern.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied coldly. “I had the situation perfectly in hand.”

Sidney looked surprised at her reaction. “He was about to hit you!”

“And you thought you needed to rescue me, a poor defenceless woman!” She looked at him with scorn.

“No! Of course not.” Sidney looked wounded at her attack. 

“Anyway,” said Babbington. “He won’t bother you again. We took him to the organisers’ tent and told them about his behaviour. I expect he’s being disqualified as we speak.”

Esther’s face brightened. “Really? Thank you! Thank you so much!” Her face broke into a huge smile.

Babbington was enchanted and pulled his seat closer. “Do you want to tell me who he is? I’m Charles Babbington, by the way…”

Charlotte heard Esther and Babbington talking, and tried to ignore Sidney, sitting next to her. She took a mouthful of her lunch. Sidney, looked at her, confused. This wasn’t the reception he had expected. After the last time they had met, he had thought there was something between them - had hoped there was - but they were back to how they had first been. Although now, it was Charlotte being rude and he who didn’t understand what was happening.

“Have I done something to offend you?” he said.

Charlotte laughed bitterly. “Um, let me see. Could it be when you used me to make yourself out as some kind of hero or when you took away the most important thing in Georgie’s life? Do you know, for a moment I thought you were different. But clearly I was wrong.” She stood up and picked up her plate. “Now I need to go eat this somewhere else.”

“Wait,” Sidney said, putting his hand on her arm. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re denying you stopped Georgie from riding?”

“No, but it’s complicated. I can explain it, if you’ll let me. As for the other thing, I can tell you, I haven’t used you for any reason. Come sit back down and tell me what you mean.”

Charlotte looked down at his imploring expression and felt a wave of exhaustion hit her. She shook off his hand and said, “Why should I? I’m worn out. I just want to eat my lunch and have a rest. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. What does it matter what I think or what you’ve done?”

Sidney watched Charlotte walk away and thought, suddenly and fiercely, that it did matter very much. He turned back to the table and Babbington said, “Sidney, I think I know why everyone’s giving you the evil eye. Simon’s been at it again.”

“What has he done?” Sidney growled. 

As soon as Esther told him about the article, Sidney was on his feet and virtually running back to his team’s camp. He burst into the large tent that was being used as an office.

“What the fuck, Simon!”

“Hey, hold your horses! What’s got into you?”

“This fucking article you’ve virtually written about me fixing a guy’s bike in the desert.”

“Yeah, well, what about it? It’s what happened, isn’t it? I just gave the story a bit of a polish.”

“A _polish_! The whole thing’s a complete fabrication. It had nothing to do with Eliza and it wasn’t me who fixed the bike. All I did was say a few words.”

“Who fixed the bike then?” said Simon, suspiciously.

“Another competitor.”

“So if there was someone else there, why did you stop?”

“Because…” Why had he stopped? “Because I thought she might need some help,” he finished lamely.

“ _She_? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who. What does matter is that she now thinks I’m some kind of virtue signalling sexist bastard.”

“And since when did you care what some stray woman in the rally thinks of you?”

“Since now!” said Sidney glaring at his ex-brother-in-law.

“Don’t think you can replace my sister that easily,” Simon hissed.

“It’s not about replacing Eliza! For fuck’s sake, Simon. I would just like to be _me_ occasionally. Before you, before Eliza, before you both turned me into someone I’m realising I don’t like very much.”

“Now listen to me, Sidney,” said Simon, coming up very close, and prodding his finger in Sidney’s chest. “I have made you what and who you are. Without me, you would be nothing. Cross me, and I’ll destroy you, your career and your reputation. Now, haven’t you somewhere else you should be?”

Sidney stared at him, a familiar sense of impotence washing through him. He dragged himself away and went to lie down in his motorhome. He felt trapped and hopeless, not an unusual emotion for him. However, there was something else there, a desire - no, a need - to see Charlotte again and to explain himself to her. Somehow her good opinion had become essential to his very being. 

As he lay there it occurred to him that there was someone else he needed to see. The next two days were the marathon stage when all the riders would stay over in the same bivouac with none of their support team to assist them. The pros and privateers alike would have to work on their own bikes, and sleep in the same large tent. The idea of being there with no one except Babbington talking to him, seemed unbearable. The thought did flick through his mind that not so long ago he would have welcomed the chance to remain silent, but he didn’t dwell on why he had changed so much in so short a time. 

Sidney left the motorhome in search of the rider he and Charlotte had helped. He didn’t know his name, but presumed he was at the rally on his own and not with a team. He wandered through the maze of pop-up tents, trying to spot him. Eventually, at the far end of the bikers’ tents he saw the mop of sandy hair he remembered. He was sitting on the ground, chatting to some other riders and cleaning his bike. He looked up in surprise as he saw Sidney approach.

“Oh, hello,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again - and certainly not round here.”

Sidney crouched down, very aware of the attention he was attracting from the other riders nearby. “No, I don’t suppose you were,” he said. “I… I wanted to apologise for that article about me and you…”

“Yeah, mate. What was that all about?”

Sidney sighed heavily. “My team manager was fucked off with me for losing a bit of time that day and gave the story his own creative spin to the press here. I honestly had no idea about any of it till just now. I feel really bad about it. Charlotte thinks I’m a right narcissistic bastard… Anyway, I just wanted to set the record straight.”

“I appreciate it, mate. And I appreciate you coming to find me to explain.” He stuck his hand out and Sidney shook it, before standing back up again. “See you tomorrow on the marathon stage.”

Sidney grinned at him. “Yeah, hope it goes well for us all.” He took in the other riders as he said it and was relieved to see them smile and nod at him.

He took a different route back to his camp, hoping to see The Falcons’ site on the way. He hoped he would have the opportunity to talk to Charlotte again and explain, although no doubt Georgiana would be prowling like a guard dog and he wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near her. Then he spotted their support car with the falcon logo painted on the side. And there on the ground in front of a row of pop-up tents was Charlotte sitting cross-legged opposite a man in the same pose. He wasn’t sure what they were doing. Meditating? In the middle of all this chaos? Then he saw her lean over and kiss the man on his cheek. Even from where Sidney stood he could see the light in the man’s eyes and the glow of his smile as he gazed at Charlotte. Sidney felt his heart clench in a sudden wave of jealousy and longing. He had an urge to march over, sweep Charlotte up and carry her away like some kind of caveman. _Get a grip, man!_ he admonished himself. _You’ve hardly exchanged two civil words with this woman. You’re in a race, you’re not here to fall in love! Go back and focus!_


	9. The Marathon Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments - I really appreciate each and every one of them.
> 
> It's time for the marathon stage, when all the riders have a night away from their support teams, meaning they have to fix their own bikes and sleep together in one big tent. An opportunity, maybe, for our pair to have a more substantial conversation...

“It feels like we’re spending the night away from home,” said Charlotte the following morning, packing a clean top and a toothbrush into her bag.

“I know,” said Esther. “Who would have thought a bit of desert, a few tents, a car and a lorry would look like home?”

“With Georgie as our mum, and James and Clara as our older siblings,” laughed Charlotte. Then she saw James frown - he had obviously heard her. She shouldn’t have kissed him yesterday - but it was only a peck on the cheek and she had done it spontaneously, because he had been so kind to her. She hoped he hadn’t got the wrong idea. He was a nice guy, but he did feel like a brother. She was missing her own brothers and James felt like a good temporary substitute.

Charlotte was looking forward to the day. After a good sleep and some proper meals, she was ready to ride again. The previous two racing days felt like a distant memory, despite the large green and black bruises on her stomach and arms. Esther too, was much happier. They had found out yesterday evening that Edward Denham had been disqualified and had already been put on a plane back to Jeddah. 

Charlotte had not seen Sidney Parker since yesterday’s altercation - and she told herself that was the way she liked it. She would see him that evening, since they would all be together - eating, sleeping and fixing their bikes - but there was no reason for them to talk. She put him out of her mind and headed off for the start of the stage.

Since they were both feeling good, Charlotte and Esther agreed to go at their own pace today and meet up at the bivouac. The first part was a gravel track that led through a vast expanse of flat sand with shimmering mountains in the distance. This was the sort of stage where you could ride at speed and Charlotte let herself go, standing up on the foot pegs and feeling the hot desert air rush by. It was exhilarating - and when she reached the first checkpoint, she was grinning to herself. As she stopped and took out her water bottle for a long swig, a sandy-haired young man came over to talk to her. 

“It’s Charlotte, isn’t it?” he said. “I’m still here, thanks to you.”

Charlotte beamed at him. “I’m so pleased. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Tim, Tim Brown . It was Sidney that told me yours.”

Charlotte frowned at hearing Sidney’s name.

“He’s a decent guy, you know,” said Tim. “He came to find me yesterday, just to explain about that article everyone’s been talking about - set the record straight. Did he tell you?”

“No… no, I haven’t seen him.”

“Oh? I thought you two were old pals.”

“Whatever gave you that idea? I hardly know him.”

Tim looked surprised. “I don’t know. You just seemed…. Never mind. Anyway, see you later at the bivouac.”

Charlotte nodded and waved him off on the next stage. Sidney Parker was the most confounding man! Everytime she thought she knew him, he did something that confused her once again. And they had only spoken a handful of times, if that. 

The next part of the stage was harder so she had to concentrate and stop wondering who Sidney really was. The track was more undulating, more stony, and she had to go slower to avoid damaging her tyres. The scenery was magnificent when she did have the opportunity to look around. There were strange prehistoric outcrops and then what looked like a castle, carved out of the rock with stairs and a door. Charlotte wanted to stop and explore, but there was no time. This is a rally, not a holiday she chided herself. Maybe one day she’d have the chance to come back and take the time to absorb this unworldly landscape.

Just as the sun was going down, Charlotte hit a large stone, went flying over the handlebars and landed in a heap, just inches from a jagged rock formation. Counting her blessings, but also aware that her bruises now had bruises, she checked her bike and saw she had a flat tyre. Not wanting to fix it in the dark, she looked at her roadbook and saw she wasn’t far now from the end of the stage. She kept going, very carefully riding on the wheel rim, eventually arriving at the campsite for the night. A couple of large tents had been set up and a fire had been lit. She could see people already working on their bikes, and since she couldn’t spot Esther, she settled down to do the same. 

With her eyes fixed on the tyre in front of her, she groped on the ground for her spanner.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” said a deep voice.

Without looking up she took the spanner from Sidney and continued with her work. She felt him sit down on the ground near her.

“Good day?” he asked.

“Un huh, You?”

“Pretty good. You did well getting back with a burst tyre.”

“Un huh.”

Sidney looked at her, so focussed on the work at hand. He saw the dust in her hair, the way she winced when she moved. He felt a wave of tenderness for this woman sweep through him.

“I know you don’t think much of me,” he said softly. “And, god knows, I’ve done some pretty shitty things in my time. But, if you’ll let me, I would like to explain myself a little.”

“If you must,” she muttered.

“I think I must,” he said and was rewarded with the sight of her biting her lip to prevent a small smile from forming. “That article had nothing to do with me. It was my team manager who came up with it. He heard a rumour and then made up the rest. I would never have given a quote like that. In fact I rarely ever give quotes - it’s usually him that makes them up for me. And sometimes he goes way too far. It really pisses me off.”

He saw Charlotte raise her head to look at him.

“Why do you let him then?”

Sidney sighed heavily. “Because… because he’s my boss and my ex-brother-in-law. Because he picked me up when I was down, gave me this ride, pushed me to win. Because it’s become the way we do things. Because he’s a manipulative bastard…”

He saw her face soften. “Sounds like a complicated relationship.”

“It is and one that I’m starting to question… sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You won’t tell anyone will you?”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She smiled.

“So, am I forgiven?” he said with a hopeful smile.

“For that, you are. But what about Georgie? She says you’re a sexist pig who hates women riding and that you’re not to be trusted.”

Sidney looked at her sternly. “You’ve had a few run-ins with me, Charlotte. You know I can be a rude bastard. But have I ever once hinted that I thought you shouldn’t ride because you’re a woman?”

Charlotte thought for a moment. “No… no, you haven’t.”

“Thank you. I have never said women shouldn’t ride. I have only said Georgiana shouldn’t ride. And that’s because her father told me that’s what I had to do.”

Charlotte looked at him curiously. “How did you even end up being Georgie’s guardian?”

“Her dad was my godfather. He and my dad raced bikes together. His wife died and he had this little girl to bring up. And Georgiana was always wild. He was scared something would happen to her and when she got interested in bikes, he became terrified. He wouldn’t let her anywhere near them. I was with Eliza - she was wild too. I was always scared about her and bikes as well. Then my godfather got ill - he had cancer and it was going to kill him. So he came up with the brainwave to make me his daughter’s guardian. He thought because I tried to keep my wife safe, I could do the same for Georgiana. And to give me more authority, he put in his will that she had to stay under my guardianship until she was 21 and that she would only inherit at that age if she had never ridden a motorbike.”

Charlotte had been listening to him, transfixed. “Did you tell her all that?”

“Of course, but she wasn’t bothered. She’d say she didn’t care about the money. She just wanted the freedom to do whatever she wanted.”

“Weren’t you tempted to let her?”

“I would have loved to. I was only 25 when she became my ward. I didn’t know what to do with a 16 year old girl. But my godfather knew me too well. His will also said that if Georgiana didn’t inherit then I would.”

“That’s terrible!”

Sidney’s face broke into a grin. “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

“My wife thought I should let her ride and take the money - it was a fortune.”

“No! But that’s so irresponsible - if Georgie had had an accident or died, even, you would have had to cope with the guilt and what people would say about how you’d come into the money.” She paused and realised what she'd said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak ill of your wife.”

Sidney looked at her and smiled again. “You’ve only spoken the truth. It’s exactly what I thought.”

“But why does Georgie say you’re not to be trusted?”

“Because the only way I could get her to stay away from motorbikes was by promising her that I’d think about it again on her next birthday. And then, of course, her birthday would come and I would say, let’s think about it next year, and then the next… She was so angry with me! The rows we had...”

“How did you stop her riding though? You couldn’t have kept watch on her all the time?”

“I sent her to a boarding school where the staff had strict instructions to keep a very close eye on her.”

Charlotte frowned. “She lost both her parents and then you sent her away?” 

Sidney sighed. “I’m not proud of that. My wife wasn’t the motherly type and she and Georgiana didn’t get on. I told myself it was for the best - we had bikes at home and it would have been too much a temptation… and I thought a school would look after her much better than I could.”

“Poor Georgie,” Charlotte murmured. 

“Georgiana has a lot to blame me for,” said Sidney seriously.

“But maybe she’s blaming you for the wrong things,” said Charlotte softly.

Sidney nodded. “You are very good at putting your finger on the truth of a matter,” he said, with a half smile.

Charlotte laughed ruefully. “Otherwise called: speaking my mind when I should stay silent.”

“I hope you will always speak your mind to me,” said Sidney looking intently at her.

She grinned. “You don’t mind this little amateur giving the great Sidney Parker lip then?”

Sidney burst out laughing. “What do you say to the great Sidney Parker going and getting us some food?”

“Sounds good, but I need to wash first. And I should find Esther...”

“Your red-headed teammate? I think you’ll find she’s deep in conversation with my friend Babbington over there,” and he pointed.

Charlotte looked just in time to see Esther throw back her head and laugh in a way Charlotte had never seen before - easy and relaxed. Babbington was gazing at her in what could only be described as adoration. Charlotte looked back at Sidney and smiled.

“Dinner for two then, “ she said. “I’ll just go have a quick shower.”

Charlotte went off to the showers, thinking about Sidney. It was strange, being apart from him felt odd - like she had moved away from a warm welcoming fire and was now in cold darkness. She had been teasing, but he was the great Sidney Parker and she was a nobody and yet she felt so comfortable with him. Like old pals, as Tim had noticed. But no, not pals exactly. There was something in his deep brown eyes, the way his beautiful lips curled into a smile that made her heart beat quicker, that made her want him to kiss her… Stop it! she scolded herself. You are in the middle of a rally, not on a date. You need to finish this race, be fully focussed not dreaming about a man who only a few days ago you thought was the rudest person you’d ever met.

Meanwhile Sidney, standing in a queue for food, thought about Charlotte. He had never been so honest with anyone before about his relationship with Georgiana. But it had been so easy to tell Charlotte. How strange it was, they had only met a week ago and this was their first real conversation. He felt like he had known her for a long long time. And yet, that wasn’t completely true, for there was so much he didn’t know about her and wanted to - like how her lips would feel if he kissed her and what it would be like to peel off all those layers of clothes she was wearing… Stop it! he rebuked himself. You are in the middle of a rally, not on a date…

When they met again and Sidney handed her a plate of food, they felt a little awkward with each other and sat for a while saying nothing, just eating. But slowly, the pleasure of being together returned and they both relaxed.

“Why did you try and talk to me at the scrutineering?” said Sidney suddenly. “I can remember trying to get rid of you, but not what you said.”

A smile played along Charlotte’s lips. “I came to tell you that I was a big fan and that you were a huge inspiration to me getting back into competing.”

“And then you discovered that your admiration was hugely misplaced,” said Sidney grinning.

“Not at first. I thought it was my fault, barging in and telling you I knew what it was like to lose someone. I’d have hated it if a complete stranger had started talking to me about something so intimate.”

“Who did you lose,” said Sidney, concern showing in his voice and eyes.

“My brother, Peter, at a motocross event. I stopped competing after he died. But I always watched the Dakar and the fact that you came back even though you had lost your wife there, encouraged me to compete again as well.”

Sidney was silent for a moment, his head full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. His relationship with his wife, the circumstances of her death, the way he had coped were all things that had no right attracting anyone’s admiration. But how could he tell her any of this? Instead, he said, “This is a cruel sport. It kills too many people.”

“So why do we do it?”

“Why do _you_ do it?”

“Because it’s the best feeling in the world! When it’s going well, I feel like I’m flying - weightless, in the air. There’s nothing like it, is there?”

In response Sidney pushed up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of an eagle. “I had that done to remind myself of why I ride. Because it makes me feel like I am soaring in the sky.”

Charlotte looked at him in wonder before pushing up her sleeve and laying her arm next to his. “Mine’s a peregrine falcon, the fastest animal in the world.”

Sidney looked at her for a moment, his eyes taking her in. Then he took his finger and lightly traced the edges of the bird on her arm. Charlotte watched his finger move and felt herself shiver at his touch. 

The moment was broken by a cheery, “Hello you two! Looks like she’s forgiven you.”

They looked up and saw Tim standing there, grinning at them. They were confused for a moment, wondering what Sidney needed to be forgiven for, then they smiled at him.

“How are you doing, Tim?” said Charlotte.

“Good, I’m good. Tough day tomorrow though. Gonna hit the sack.”

They looked around and realised that people were drifting into the big tent to find a sleeping bag and a place on the floor to sleep. 

“How do you feel slumming it with us amateurs rather than retiring to your fancypants motorhome?” Charlotte asked Sidney when Tim had gone. Sidney saw her grinning at him.

“It’s going to be hard without my valet here to lay out my clothes for me,” he replied with a grin.

“I heard you get a massage every day. Is that really true?”

“No valet, but yeah, I do have a massage.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “How the other half live!”

“How do you cope with the pounding your body gets every day on the bike?”

“I do yoga every night.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. I should find somewhere to sleep…” 

He hesitated and Charlotte suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping apart from him. She pointed to a corner of the tent that hadn’t yet been occupied. “There’s a space over there that’s big enough for two if you want…” she said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze.

Sidney looked at her, wishing with all his heart that they weren’t on a rally - or in a tent full of competitors. It was going to be hard to just sleep next to this lovely woman, but at the same time he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I’ll fetch us a couple of sleeping bags,” he said.

Charlotte walked over to the corner, closed her eyes and tried to block out the people all around - especially Sidney and his magnetic effect on her. She ran through her series of stretches and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw Sidney lying in his sleeping bag, watching.

“Would you teach me to do that one day?” he said.

“What - next time we’re in a big tent in the middle of a rally?” she said climbing into the sleeping bag next to him.

“Or another time. I hope there will be another time soon when we can eat and talk and whatever...” he laughed softly.

Charlotte looked across at him and said, “I would like that - very much.”

He reached over and gently swept a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her face. “Goodnight Charlotte,” he said, not wanting to move his hand away from her warm skin. She took his hand in her own and held it, and that’s how they fell asleep - side by side and hand in hand.


	10. Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy you enjoyed the last chapter. Unfortunately, not everyone in the story is delighted at the recent turn of events...

Charlotte woke early the next morning to see Sidney crouching down next to her. “I‘ve got to go. I’m first out. But I’ll see you later, I hope…”

She nodded and he gave her a warm smile before striding off. 

Charlotte was standing with her bike in the dark cold morning air, when Esther found her.

“There you are!” said Esther. “On your own? Where’s lover boy?”

“Excuse me?” said Charlotte with a small frown.

“You and Sidney Parker! You were stuck to each others’ sides all evening. Everyone’s talking about it.”

Charlotte opened her mouth in shock and then closed it again, before saying, “How do you know? You seemed very involved with a guy of your own.”

Esther had the good grace to blush a little. “Yeah well, Babbington’s good company. But back to you and Sidney Parker.  
Apparently he usually spends the nights of the marathon stage sitting on his own or talking to another pro. He doesn’t mingle, he doesn’t laugh, he certainly doesn’t spend the whole time talking and laughing with an amateur rider and a woman at that. What’s going on? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Um… I don’t know what’s going on. Just that I like him now.”

“And he obviously likes you. Better not let Georgie know - she’ll be really pissed off at you if she finds out.”

\-----------------

The day was long and arduous for the privateer riders - they were getting used to the mixture of dunes, rocky tracks and speeding cars. The elite group of riders arrived at the next bivouac several hours before the first amateurs started to filter in. While Sidney and Babbington were getting their massages, one of the other factory team managers sauntered over to fill Simon in with what his riders had told him.

“Seems like your two found themselves girlfriends last night,” he said with glee.

Simon tried to hide his alarm. “Really? I’m sure it wasn’t anything,” he said.

“Parker spent the whole evening chatting to one of The Falcons team. Apparently, no one’s seen him so relaxed and happy before. From what I hear, Babbington spent a fair amount of time with the redhead Falcon. But he’s always been the chattier and more sociable of the two, hasn’t he?”

“As I said, I’m sure it was nothing.”

The man shrugged and went back to his own camp while Simon silently seethed at the news. He had built a whole image around Sidney which had made him a fortune from sponsors. Sidney had done well out of it too, but Simon had done even better - a fact that he had kept from his former brother-in-law. Sponsors loved the image of the grieving widower, devoted to the memory of his darling wife, who had died so tragically and romantically while riding her beloved motorbike across a desert. It worked so well for selling wedding rings and eternity rings, aftershave and perfume. It helped that Sidney was such a handsome man - the camera loved him and shots of him in his leathers with his bike were catnip to advertisers. And now it looked like Sidney was going to bring this gravy train to a sudden stop by flirting with another woman. Simon had to nip this flirtation in the bud, before it got out of hand and the sponsors found out. Well aware that Georgiana Lambe was no fan of Sidney’s, he marched over to The Falcons’ site to see if they could agree on a way to handle the situation.

Georgie saw Simon approach and inwardly groaned. She hadn’t had anything to do with him since seeing him at some family party when Eliza was still alive. If Georgie hated Sidney, it was nothing to what she had felt for his wife. After Georgie’s father had died and Sidney had packed her off to boarding school, she had at first stayed with Sidney and Eliza during the holidays. But Eliza made it very clear this was an imposition she wouldn’t tolerate. Georgie soon found she had to stay at school all year round except for a few days at Christmas and on her birthday. She couldn’t understand why Sidney was so fascinated by his bitch of a wife, but he seemed bewitched by her. When Eliza had died, Georgie thought the spell would be broken and she would live with him. But he had been bereft, drinking too much and getting into fights. And then Simon had come along and offered him a place on the factory team he managed and Sidney had thrown himself into that - while continuing to insist that she stay clear of motorbikes. The hypocrisy made her mad!

“Hello Georgiana.”

“Simon. To what do I owe the honour?”

“Are your riders back yet?”

“No. Why?”

“Have you heard the rumours?”

“What rumours?”

“From all accounts, my riders and your riders were getting very friendly last night.”

“What!”

“Indeed. Now I’m not bothered about what Babbington gets up to with your redhead, but I was hoping you’d be as unhappy as me about Sidney and the other one...”

“Charlotte.”

“I need my guy focussed on the job in hand and I expect you’ll want to keep your girl away from him. So can we agree to keep them apart for the rest of the rally? Try and sow some discord between them? What do you say?”

Loath though Georgie was to have anything to do with this man, she couldn’t let Charlotte fall under Sidney’s spell and be let down by him, as she inevitably would. “I’ll do anything I can to keep them apart.”

“Good. I’ve got a plan for this evening to keep him well out of her way. And then we’ve got three days till the end of the rally to make sure they never want to see each other again.”

“You know she’ll hear nothing good about him from me.”

“Be in touch then,” he said and sauntered off.

\-----------------

“Want to go get something to eat now or later?” said Babbington after their massages were over.

“Do you mind going later?”

“In case a certain young lady isn’t back yet…?”

“Maybe,” Sidney replied nonchalantly.

“You don’t have to be cagey with me. I think it’s great. It’s good to see you happy.”

“You seemed pretty happy last night too. Esther isn’t it?”

Babbington beamed. “She’s… she’s like no one I’ve ever met before. To be honest, Sidney, I’m all at sea.”

Sidney laughed. “It’s about time you met your match.”

“I really think I have.”

Babbington finished dressing and said, “Does this mean you’ve stopped seeing all the amateurs as naive or suicidal?”

“Did I say that?”

“Your very words.”

“Hmm. Well, I still think this rally is too dangerous for a lot of them. But yeah, some of them are pretty impressive.” 

“Impressive looking too…” 

“Well, yeah, that too.” Sidney smiled. “But you know what talking to Charlotte did for me last night? It reminded me why I got into riding bikes in the first place. I think I’ve lost my way a bit, forgotten who I am and what I enjoy. I’d like to get that back.”

Babbington patted his friend on the back. “I hope you do - I sincerely do.”

At that moment Simon burst into their motorhome and said, “I need you both to go have some dinner now. I’ve got interviews lined up for you both all evening.”

“What?” Sidney groaned. “You know I hate all that press stuff.”

“Tough. There’s three days till the end of the rally and you’re on course for a sixth consecutive win. This is just the time to be giving interviews and creating a buzz for the sponsors.”

“But why do I have to be here?” said Babbington.

“Because you’re going to come in second again for the sixth time - it’s a remarkable achievement for the team. People want to interview you too. Go on, off you both go.”

\----------------------

Esther and Charlotte eventually arrived at the bivouac, exhausted and dirty.

“It’s so lovely to have you back!” said Georgie. “We’ve missed you! How was it?”

“Yesterday was good, but today was a bugger,” said Esther. “I thought it would never end.”

“Me too,” said Charlotte. “I’m done in.” 

Clara and James came over and took their bikes.

“It’s really good, to see you back, Charlotte,” said James quietly. “Georgie’s right, we did miss you - I missed you.” Charlotte couldn’t mistake the look in his eye as he said it. 

“Really? That’s nice,” she replied, trying to put him off. But when she saw the hurt on his face at this breezy response, she felt terrible. So she smiled warmly at him and added, “It’s good to be back.” He beamed back at her - and then she worried she'd given him the wrong impression. She groaned inwardly - she was too tired for all this.

“Shall we go get some dinner,” said Georgie, “and you can tell me all about the last two days.”

Charlotte was relieved to be removed from James’ gaze. At the same time she had hoped she might see Sidney in the canteen and knew that talking to him would be awkward if she was with Georgie. She was in a rally, she reminded herself, and that took priority. The previous evening almost seemed like a dream now, a desert mirage. Surely she hadn’t really spent the whole time talking to Sidney Parker… Nevertheless, once they were in the canteen, she couldn’t help herself looking around for him and feeling horribly disappointed that he wasn’t there.

“You know I am so proud of you both,” said Georgie, when they had all sat down with a heaped plate of food. “The dream was always to have all three of the team at the finishing line, but I knew the chances of that were almost nonexistent. The fact that the two of you are still in the rally is just awesome. There’s only three days left - if you focus and stay safe, there’s every chance you’ll finish. And to finish on your first Dakar is really something special.”

“Don’t jinx it!” said Esther.

“I’m not jinxing anything. I’m just telling it as it is. You are both really talented riders and I hope we can continue to work together after this is over.”

“Really? You’re thinking of forming a team for other events then?” said Charlotte.

“I’m mulling some things over at the moment, yes. Would you be interested?”

Charlotte and Esther looked at each other, then at Georgie and both said, “Of course.”

On the way back to their tents after dinner, Georgie said to Charlotte, “Do you mind if we have a quick chat?”

“What is it?”

“Listen Charlotte, it’s not really any of my business, but there’s a rumour going round that you and Sidney were getting quite close last night…”

“What? We were just talking!” Charlotte blushed. What had anyone seen? What was there to see? They hadn’t even kissed.

“Well that’s good. Because, Charlotte, I would hate to see you hurt and Sidney’s not someone you can trust, believe me, I know.”

Charlotte stopped walking and said, “I understand he treated you badly. He told me so himself. But he’s been very honest about the things he’s done wrong and I appreciate that honesty.”

“Has he told you about his wife and his relationships since then?”

Charlotte was disconcerted by this question. “No-o.”

“The thing is, he was devoted to Eliza. And since she died, he’s tried to replace her - many times. He’s always enthusiastic and charming at the start and then he quickly grows tired of them when they don’t match up to the memory of his wife. I’m really sorry, Charlotte, but you’re just one in a long line of women he’s picked up and then thrown away.”

Charlotte’s face had gone very pale. Georgie squeezed her hand and said, “It’s better that you know this straight away, before you have a chance to get too hurt. Forget about him and concentrate on your riding. You have a great career ahead of you if you choose it. Don’t let the likes of Sidney Parker get in the way of that.”

Charlotte felt her heart sink at these words. She had been so sure that Sidney was sincere, that they had shared something important the previous night. But what did she really know about him, after all? It was the first and only proper conversation they’d had. Georgie had known him for years, she surely knew him better than Charlotte did. They walked back to the tents in silence. 

Georgie didn’t let any qualms at hurting Charlotte bother her. She knew Sidney would let Charlotte down, one way or another, so all she had done was protect her from that. And besides, she really did want to continue managing The Falcons and she couldn't have one of her team involved with Sidney Parker. It was tough laying out the facts to Charlotte, but it had to be done. And now, hopefully, Charlotte would have nothing more to do with the man.


	11. Tim Brown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, the last chapter really riled some of you up! I love it that you're so involved in this story. It's becoming harder for me to respond to your comments, as I don't want to give anything away as to what's going to happen. However, I would like to respond to those of you who blame Georgie as much as Simon for trying to split up our pair. Simon - you can hate as much as you like - but Georgie and indeed her alter ego in the series is, I think, far more complex. I know you want Sidney and Charlotte to be together, but from Georgie/ana's perspective, Sidney was supposed to be the person who would look after her when she lost her parents. When what she needed was love and compassion, he treated her with coldness and took from her who (Otis) and what (bikes) she loved. She feels rejected and punished by him. Therefore wouldn't it be strange if she thought he was a good choice for her friend Charlotte to fall for? And wouldn't she try to warn her he was not to be trusted? Anyway that's what I think - you, the readers and viewers can think what you like!  
> Back to this chapter - I apologise in advance but it is very sad. Please bear with me though - the darkest night comes before the brightest day...

Despite being exhausted, Charlotte slept badly. She had gone through her yoga stretches with James, but her movements had been lacklustre. James was concerned at her low spirits, but she found his kindness irritating. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she was over-reacting, the truth of it was she’d fallen for Sidney and thought he felt the same. Georgie’s revelations made her doubt her own judgement. She felt used and very alone. Even Peter’s voice did not come in the night to comfort her.

“What’s wrong with you?” said Esther as they waited to be waved off by the official. “You’ve hardly spoken a word this morning.”

“Nothing. Just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Want to ride together then? I’ll navigate if you like.”

“Please.” Charlotte smiled gratefully at her. “You’re very cheery.”

“In a good mood, that’s all. I do have them from time to time.” Esther grinned. “Make the most of it. Won’t be long till I’m my usual sarcastic self again.”

After the usual liaison section from the bivouac, they started on the special - the timed off-road stage. Before arriving in Saudi Arabia, Charlotte had always assumed that deserts were sand. Now she knew that they could contain sandy plains, low dunes, high dunes, gravel and rocks. Today’s special took them across ground that was littered with slabs of black rock. Charlotte felt like it took hours to work her way across them. Much of the time, she was literally having to lift her bike up and over stones. It was painfully exhausting work. Charlotte was relieved when finally they reached the first checkpoint and she could stop and rest for the regulation 15 minutes. 

“Hiya,” said a bright voice. “That was bloody hard, wasn’t it?”

She put down her water bottle and saw who it was. “Hi Tim. I’m knackered after that.”

“Next bit looks good though. A nice long gravel track. I’ve been so careful after that chat with Sidney. But it’s only another two days now isn’t it. I’m tempted to let rip. What do you think?”

Charlotte smiled. “Don’t ask me - it’s my first Dakar too.”

“I’m going to go for it then.” 

“Ok, but be careful.”

“If we were careful, Charlotte, we wouldn’t be here,” he grinned and was off.

It felt good to be on gravel again, where it was possible to go fast. However, Charlotte was tired and knew, in that state, it was easy to make mistakes. She let Esther race off and kept her speed to one that meant she could control her bike if anything went wrong. She loved these wide open plains, the white sand dotted with green scrubby bushes, the herds of camels that galloped along as if attracted by the race unfolding in their territory.

In the distance she spotted a helicopter landing. That usually meant that someone had had an accident and needed rescuing. Her heart started to pound. She desperately hoped it wasn’t Esther. As she came closer, she saw parts of a bike strewn over a large area. The rider’s helmet was on the ground and Charlotte saw the fluorescent green marking on it and started to panic. And then she realised it wasn’t a fluorescent green falcon. She had stopped once before because she had mistaken the helmet for Esther’s. Further on, she saw a stretcher. There was a body with a blanket covering its face. 

The body was Tim’s, Charlotte was sure of it. Tim, who she had been talking to earlier. Tim, who had asked her advice on going fast. She should have stopped him! Told him to take it easy. _It’s not your fault_ , came Peter’s voice. Shut up! she shouted in her head. You’re dead - like Tim - what do you know about anything?

Charlotte felt like giving up there and then. Just lying down in the sand and curling up into a ball and waiting for someone to take her away. Instead she continued with the stage, her brain and body numb, just riding automatically. Esther was waiting for her at the next checkpoint, her face very pale.

“I’ve heard some terrible news,” she said.

“I know. I saw him.”

“Crash?”

“No. With the helicopter.”

“I think I met him on the marathon stage. Seemed like a nice chap.”

“He’s the one Sidney and I helped… oh fuck. He wanted to pull out and we persuaded him to keep going…” She looked at Esther, her face appalled. “If we hadn’t stopped to help him, he wouldn’t be dead!”

“No, no, no, you can’t think like that! Someone else might have stopped to help him or he might have changed his mind or all sorts of things might have happened. It’s not your fault.”

“I just spoke to him at the last checkpoint,” said Charlotte, ignoring Esther’s reassurance. “He said he was going to go flat out. I should have stopped him…”

“Charlotte, look at me.” Esther was standing very close and eventually Charlotte had to look up. “You cannot think like that. This is tragic, it really is. But there is nothing you could have done to prevent it. He must have hit a stray rock, it was an accident. A horrible horrible accident, but you are not to blame. Do you hear me?”

Charlotte nodded dumbly, hearing the words, but not yet believing them.

“Come on, we need to go.”

“I can’t bear to go any further,” said Charlotte.

“But you’re going to. We’re going to ride the rest of the special and the liaison together. And we’re going to do it for Tim. Ok?”

“Ok,” Charlotte whispered.

\---------------------

Sidney was much further along, on the last section of the day. He thought about Charlotte and how frustrated he'd been not to see her the previous evening. The interviews Simon had lined up had been as tedious as he had expected. How many different ways could he say that the rally had been good but difficult, that he was riding well but taking each day as it came, that he hoped to win but was taking nothing for granted. He couldn’t believe that anyone really wanted to hear these endless empty phrases. But today was a new day, he was riding well, was about to win the stage and was determined to see Charlotte that evening, even if it meant barging his way past Georgie and into the Falcons’ camp.

As he rode through the stage finish, he was immediately beset by journalists and their microphones.

“Have you heard the news Sidney?”

“Another rider dead on the Dakar…”

“Did you know him?”

Sidney went pale and put his hand up. “Sorry, I haven’t heard this yet. What’s happened? Who’s dead?”

One of the reporters said, “Tim Brown died on the gravel section of the special. We hear he hit a rock. He was dead when the helicopter arrived.”

“Tim Brown…” said Sidney faintly. The rider, he and Charlotte had helped… He started to move off in a daze, the reporters still following him.

“Can you give us a comment, Sidney?”

Sidney looked at them without really seeing. “Um, Tim was a great rider and a nice guy. One of the best. I can’t believe he’s gone… Now, please, I need to go…”

He rode slowly into the bivouac. There was a strange subdued atmosphere in the camp. He wanted to speak to Charlotte, was imagining her distress. If they hadn’t stopped to help him, he would still be alive… Oh this was such a savage sport. The other competitors in the Dakar, those in the cars and trucks and lightweights, were safer. They had accidents, but they very rarely died. And there were two of them in the cars - three in the trucks. One to navigate, one to drive. The bikers were on their own. Exposed to every danger. Navigating and riding all at the same time. Accidents were bound to happen. And if you hit a rock at speed, you were lucky to escape with severe injuries. He had broken several bones in his career, had had numerous close shaves, he’d been lucky. That’s what this sport came down to in the end - luck. You could be as skilful as you liked, but one bad day and it was all over. So why did he do it? He thought of Charlotte and their matching bird tattoos, and despite everything, he smiled. Because he was addicted to the way it made him feel. And presumably it was the same for Tim Brown. He had known the risks and done it anyway… Knowing this, however, didn’t make Sidney feel any better. He felt devastated at another rider’s loss.

He wanted to see Charlotte, but knew she wouldn’t be back for hours yet. The elite riders always arrived hours before the privateers - they were in a race, after all, not simply coping with a feat of endurance. After his massage, he and Babbington, joined with other riders who were all feeling aimless and sad. A fire was built and as the sun set, more and more people arrived to stand and talk and mourn another rider taken by this cruel sport. There was talk of the next day’s stage being cancelled in Tim’s memory, but this was soon quashed by the organisers. With only two days left of the rally, the factory teams were keen both stages be played out, since it was the only chance for their riders to win. 

Although some of the privateers had arrived, Sidney couldn’t see Charlotte - or Esther - amongst them. His need to see her over-rode his anxiety at facing Georgiana who he hadn’t spoken to since she stopped being his ward. 

He walked over to The Falcons camp where he saw Georgie pacing up and down.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said when she saw him. 

“Hello Georgiana. How are you doing? This news is horrible…”

“What do you care?” she snapped.

Sidney sighed. “I wanted to speak to Charlotte. Is she back yet?”

“No.”

“I know you don’t think much of me. But we both care about Charlotte. She’s going to be devastated about Tim…”

“Since when did you know so much about what Charlotte does or doesn’t feel? You’ve only known her two minutes.”

“I know that we properly met when we both stopped to help him last week. I know that she’s spoken to him - we’ve both spoken to him - since. I know that her brother died doing this sport. It’s not rocket science to know that this is going to hit her hard.”

Georgie’s expression softened slightly. “No, no, you’re right. I am worried about her.”

“Can I stay here and wait for her?”

Georgie looked at him and considered his request. Then she said in a more friendly tone, “She could be hours. I’ll tell her you were here and that you wanted to see her.”

“And tell her she can come and see me - if she wants to - whenever she gets back - it doesn’t matter what time it is. Thank you Georgiana. And maybe when this is all over, we could meet again. To talk. I’d like to try to make amends somehow… if you’d let me…”

Georgie’s expression stiffened. “Isn’t it too late for all that?”

“I hope not,” he replied gently. 

“We’ll see. Anyway, I’ll let Charlotte know you were here.”

Sidney walked away. He wondered if Georgiana would deliver his message. He desperately hoped so, but feared she might not.

\------------------

Charlotte and Esther finally arrived at the bivouac, dejected and worn out. Georgie enveloped Charlotte in a big hug, mouthing to Esther, “How’s she doing?” to which Esther shook her head.

“You poor loves,” Georgie said. “What horrible horrible news. Shall I get James to go get you some food so you can just stay here with us tonight?”

“Actually,” Charlotte said. “I think I’d like to go and talk to Sidney. I know what you said about him, Georgie, but we both met him together and I think he’ll probably be feeling as bad as me.”

“He came round earlier to see you.”

“Really?” Charlotte’s face lit up.

“Yes. He wanted to give you his condolences…”

“His _condolences_.”

“... and to say he needed to get to bed early - he needs a clear head for the last two days. So not to try and see him tonight.”

Charlotte looked crushed. “I can’t believe he would be so cold.”

“Can’t you?” Georgie said gently.

Charlotte remembered how cold he could be and had been to her, not so many days earlier.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “He’s a cold, rude man. I don’t know how I forgot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dakar Rally really does have a high mortality rate. Since 1979 when the rally started, 23 motorcyclists have died, 6 car drivers and 1 truck driver. In that time, 45 non-competitors have also died, including the race's founder, Thierry Sabine, 14 news journalists and support crew, 23 spectators, and 4 children.


	12. Sandstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I believe I am my best self, my truest self when I'm with you."

Sidney waited a long time for Charlotte and then went to sleep, disappointed and sad she hadn’t come to see him. Waking up in his motorhome, his first thought was to see her again. He remembered that he would be starting last - the organisers had reversed the order again - and he hoped he would see Charlotte before the stage began.

\-----------------------

Charlotte made her way to the startline of the special stage and saw Sidney standing by the side of the road. When he said to her “Charlotte, are you ok?” she ignored him and kept going. She felt dull and heavy, just going through the motions, not quite sure why she was still here. The whole team had been so kind to her the previous night. James fetched food from the canteen and they had sat together and chatted and sympathised and shared stories. She had felt better for a while, not alone in her grief. But this morning, getting up in the dark and the cold, she had felt desolate again, her sadness for Tim, mingling with her loss of Peter. 

The special began. The first part was sand dunes, the sort of riding that felt fantastic when it went well and was slow and exasperating when it didn’t. Esther did the navigating again, so Charlotte just needed to follow her up and over each towering ridge of sand. 

Charlotte kept going, but her brain kept questioning why. What was the point? Who cared if she finished this stupid rally? Why was she even here? It should have been Peter who was here. He was the talented rider. He could do anything. She had just followed in his wake, aspiring to be as good as her big brother. But she knew deep down that she could never be as good as him. It should have been her who died, not him. She could hear his voice starting to protest, but she squashed it down, refusing to listen.

She was so deep in her misery that she didn’t notice the wind was starting to pick up, blowing away the tracks left by Esther’s bike and making it harder to follow. The wind blew harder and Charlotte suddenly couldn’t see anything around her. Everything went dark - all around her was a swirling mass of sand. She wanted to shout for Esther, but as soon as she raised the visor on her helmet, her face and mouth were covered with dry gritty dust. Coughing, she immediately dropped her visor, switched on the beam from her headlight and slowly inched her way, unable to see more than a foot ahead. All she could hear was the roar of the wind; she had no idea if there was anyone else around. 

_I’m here_ , came Peter’s voice. _I’m here with you_.

You’re dead.

_Nevertheless, I’m still here. And I know you can do this_.

How do you know?

_Because you’re strong and brave_.

I don’t feel strong and brave.

_I know you don’t, but you are_.

You’re wrong, I’m not. And I’m about ready to give up.

She had been riding very slowly up a long incline, when suddenly she was skidding down the other side of the dune. She fell head over heels down the slope and found herself and her bike in a sand bowl, a deep hollow filled with soft sand. Her bike was almost completely submerged. Kneeling next to it, she started to dig it out with her hands. Every time she scooped some away, the sand fell back into place. She saw the headlights of a car come over the ridge and she stood up and waved at it to stop and help her. Maybe they couldn’t see her, maybe they were ignoring her, either way they kept going. It was at that moment that Charlotte decided her rally had come to an end. Beyond exhausted, sore and despairing, she sat back down with her bike and gave up.

\-------------------

In the sandstorm, Sidney immediately thought of Charlotte and how she was coping. He had ridden through storms like this before and knew how disorienting and scary they could be. And she’d looked so sad and distant when he saw her at the start - he’d wanted to go after her, but it hadn’t seemed like the right time. He kept going through the storm, making his way bit by bit, and eventually was rewarded by the sight of the next checkpoint. 

“Has Charlotte Heywood been through yet?” he asked the official. 

The man checked the list and shook his head. “There’s a lot of riders still out there. This storm has really caused some mayhem.”

Sidney turned his bike around and headed back the way he had come. “Hey!” shouted the official. “You’re going the wrong way!”

Sidney ignored him and kept going. The storm was beginning to lift and he kept his eyes peeled for a helmet painted with a fluorescent yellow falcon.

\----------------

_You can’t just sit here_ , said Peter’s voice. _You need to get your bike out_.

I can’t, it’s too heavy. I’ve had enough Peter. I just can’t go any further.

_You can do this, I know you can_. 

I can’t. I’ve gone as far as I can in this rally. I gave it a good go, but that’s it now.

Charlotte stretched her legs out and took a handful of sand and let it trickle between her fingers. She had always loved going to the beach, feeling the warm sand beneath her feet. She had never realised how deadly and complicated a substance sand was before. She would certainly look at it with more respect next time she was by the sea.

“You can’t just sit there, you have a rally to finish.”

“I’ve told you, Peter, I’m not going any further,” said Charlotte out loud.

“It’s not Peter, it’s me, Sidney.”

Charlotte looked up and saw Sidney in front of her, getting off his bike and taking off his helmet. She looked at him confused, not sure if he was real or some kind of mirage. “Is that really you or am I imagining things?”

He sat down next to her and said, “It’s really me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you were still in the rally.”

“You’ve had a wasted trip then. I’m not finishing it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why? Because I’m so tired I can’t move. Because my bruises have bruises. Because the whole thing’s pointless anyway. Because I’m not good enough to finish. Because I’ve had enough of people dying. Is that enough reasons for you?”

“It’s quite a few, yes.” Sidney looked at her, concerned, not knowing what to say. Then he asked, “What are your ambitions, Charlotte? What do you want out of life?”

“I want to be you,” she answered immediately. 

He looked at her, surprised.

“Or I did,” she continued. “I wanted to be a pro, to win rallies, to be a success. To have a great love affair like you did with your wife. But what this rally has taught me is that I’m just me. Not quite good enough.”

“Charlotte, please don't doubt yourself. You're more than equal to any pro here.”

Charlotte shook her head. “But not good enough for you,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” He looked confused.

“I can’t match up to the memory of your wife.”

“Is that what Georgiana told you?”

Charlotte nodded.

Sidney sighed. “Let me tell you about my wife, Charlotte.” 

He pushed his fingers through the sand, thinking about what to say. “We met at school. She was beautiful and brilliant. Always taking risks, wanting to live life on the edge. I was fascinated by her. We became a couple - one of those golden couples people envy because they don’t really know them.” He paused and sighed again. “Because the truth was, Eliza wasn’t a nice person. She was a bully and spiteful. But I didn’t see it. I was entranced. I did whatever she wanted me to. We were both into motorbikes - my dad raced them and her brother - Simon - worked for Suzuki. I got into motocross but she never had the discipline to compete properly. She just loved the danger of riding bikes - she would take such big risks it scared me.” 

He sensed Charlotte looking at him, listening, but he kept his gaze on his fingers pushing sand back and forth. “I tried to slow her down, be more careful, but she’d just laugh and taunt me for being a coward. She said she’d got tired of me, that I had become an old woman. I was desperate for her not to leave me so I proposed. And we got married. And then I was made Georgiana’s guardian. Eliza threw a fit, said I had to choose - Georgiana or her. To my eternal shame, I chose her. But I didn’t give in about Georgiana’s inheritance. 

“Eliza spent money endlessly, ran up huge debts that I struggled to pay. And then she got it into her head that we should do the Dakar together. I said it was too expensive, and when she brushed that aside, I said if she was serious we’d have to prepare properly, that the Dakar was tough for privateers. She just laughed, said I was too cautious, that she wanted an adventure. 

“So we booked our places. I trained in preparation, but she didn’t. She kept saying that I was being ridiculous, getting into shape first. Who did I think I was? I wasn’t an elite rider, could never be. I was just a second-rate rider. So we turned up like this for the Dakar. As it turned out, I loved it, loved the challenge, found out that I was pretty good. And Eliza hated that I was better than her. She kept taunting me that I was crap at everything - crap in bed, crap in life, a real loser. But at the same time she was struggling - of course she was, she hadn’t prepared. She wouldn’t listen when I told her to go slower, to ride within her limits. What did I know about anything? So she rode too fast, clipped a rock, was thrown into the air, landed on her head and died.” 

Sidney stopped and stared into the distance for a moment “I was shattered, stunned. Being with her had become a nightmare but as soon as she was gone, I missed her intensely. I thought it was my fault she had died. If only I had tried harder to make her listen, to see sense. I came home and started to drink. Anything to forget. I got into fights, I picked up women and dropped them. And then Simon rescued me and gave me a ride with the team he managed. And slowly I recovered and I began to win rallies. And I won them because Eliza would whisper in my ear that I wasn’t good enough, that I would fail, and so I proved her wrong.”

“No wonder you hated it, when I came and said you were an inspiration to me,” Charlotte said softly.

“Simon created this whole image around me of the grieving widower, devoted to his wife’s memory, dedicating every win to her. I didn’t care at first. It got us sponsors and I had so many debts to pay, I just welcomed the money. But the admiration it brought me was just horrible to endure. I couldn’t bear it, it was so misplaced. But I am really sorry I was so rude to you.”

They sat in silence for a while, both taking in what Sidney had said. 

“You’re going to lose this rally if you stay here with me much longer,” said Charlotte finally.

Sidney looked at her. He hadn’t consciously decided what he was going to do, beyond finding her and making sure she was alright. But now he knew absolutely what he was going to do. “I’ve won it five times already,” he said, smiling. “It’s about time Babbington had a go at winning.” 

“You’re going to give up winning the rally for me?” She looked at him, incredulous.

“Yes, I am.” He looked at her, his face serious now.

“Simon will be annoyed at you.”

“He’ll be furious,” said Sidney grimly,

“You’re not doing this as some big gesture to piss him off are you?” said Charlotte, frowning.

“No, Charlotte, I’m not. I’m here because I want you to finish.”

“But why? I don’t understand. There’s nothing special about me…”

“ _Nothing special_?” he looked at her in surprise. “Do you realise how few people stand up to me? You put me straight twice, three times, about my appalling behaviour. You stood up to that prick who was harassing you and your teammate. This is your first Dakar and you’re still in it when so many others have gone out. There’s something about you that’s made me be more honest about my life than I’ve been with anyone else. You make me feel like myself again - like the person I once was, like the person I want to be.”

Charlotte gazed at him, a feeling of warmth spreading through her as she absorbed his words. She rose to her knees, reached over and put her hands round his face and kissed him very gently on his lips. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for saying that, thank you for being here.”

“It’s my very great pleasure,” he replied, smiling. And then he pulled her to him, buried his hands in her hair and kissed her, softly at first, and then more deeply. It was a long kiss, filled with all the feelings they had for one another and when they finally broke apart, they gazed at each other in wonder that they had found each other. Sidney rested his forehead on hers and said softly, “I wish we were somewhere else.”

“Me too.”

“But the reality is your bike is stuck in a sand bowl, we still have a couple of hundred kilometres to ride today and it’s going to be dark in a few hours.”

Charlotte laughed. “It’s not ideal, is it?”

Sidney laughed too. “Shall we try and dig your bike out.”

Together they scooped and dug and eventually they managed to pull Charlotte’s bike out of the sand. Then they pushed their bikes up the next dune and stood and looked. The dunes seemed to roll on forever and they now bore no relation to the navigation instructions in their road books. The wind had changed everything.

“Look, over there,” said Charlotte pointing. “Isn’t that rock rather than dunes?”

Sidney squinted into the distance. “It might be. If it is, it’s the start of the gravel section. It’s a bloody long way away though, isn’t it?”

“Giving up, are you Parker? I thought you wanted to finish this rally?” Charlotte grinned at him. 

“Cheeky!” he grinned back. “Come on, Heywood, get on that bike and follow me.”

And off they went.


	13. A Night Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter - I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
> 
> We're still with our pair and they are stuck in the desert...

The riding was hard going. Although Charlotte had regained her motivation to finish the rally, that didn’t stop her being exhausted to her core and physically very sore. As they progressed, they saw other riders scattered over the dunes, either moving as slowly as they were or simply sitting, not able to go any further. The sun started to set and they could see there were still a good few kilometres until the sand dunes ended. 

Sidney’s tracking unit burst into life, “Mr Parker, we have a message for you,” came a French woman’s voice. “The race organisers are recommending that all riders still on the dunes stay there for the night. Tomorrow’s stage has been shortened because the storm has delayed so many riders. As long as you are at the bivouac by 10am, you will be able to complete the rally.”

“Ok, understood.”

Charlotte’s tracking unit soon repeated the same message to her.

“Guess it’s a night under the stars for you and me,” said Sidney, smiling.

“That sounds very romantic.”

“It’ll also be bloody freezing!”

Charlotte laughed. “Should we try and group together with some other riders for the night?”

Sidney tilted his head to one side and looked at her. “Is that what you want?”

“No, not really,” she said softly.

“Me neither.”

While there was still some light, they set up a little camp in the hollow between two dunes. Stored on their bikes for just this eventuality were foil emergency blankets, plus a number of energy bars and bottles of water. They shared out the bars and saved a few for breakfast. 

“I’d like to make a toast,” said Sidney, unscrewing the top of his water bottle. “Here's to Tim, who brought us together and whose spirit lives with us, on this and every other rally we take part in.”

Charlotte tapped her bottle with his. “To Tim,” she said and drank. “Did you really come round last night to give me your condolences and to tell me not to bother you because you needed an early night?”

“No! Is that what Georgiana told you? I was worried that might happen. I actually came round to see how you were. And to say you could come see me anytime.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment and then she said, “Why did you stop that day, when Tim and I were by the track?”

“I don’t know… You intrigued me and I was worried about you…”

“Worried? Why?”

“I always thought the Dakar was too dangerous for amateurs - after Eliza and everything… I couldn’t bear anything happening to you. So when I saw you by the track, I just stopped.”

“But you’d been so rude to me up to then!”

“That’s not true - I tried to be friendly - by the fire, remember? But you told me where to go.”

“Oh yeah, I did, didn't I?” Charlotte giggled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I deserved it.”

They munched on their cereal bars for a bit and then Charlotte said,“Do you realise this is the second time we will have had dinner and then slept together.” 

It was pitch black now, but Sidney could hear the grin in her voice. “How about the third time, I cook for you in my flat and then if we get sleepy there will be an actual bed.”

Charlotte laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

“It’s a date. Come here and snuggle up. It’s going to get cold soon and we need to preserve our warmth.”

Charlotte did as she was told. They lay down, covered themselves with the blankets and Sidney wrapped his arms around her.

“Tell me about yourself, Charlotte. You know lots about me, but I don’t know much at all about you.”

“There’s not a huge amount to tell. I live in a bedsit in Burgess Hill…”

“You live in Sussex? I live in Sussex - in Sanditon.”

“I love Sanditon! All those lovely sand dunes… oh, actually I think I’m revising my opinion about sand dunes.”

“Ours aren’t quite as daunting as these ones though. Anyway, I interrupted, go on.”

“I work as a motorcycle courier and on the weekends I do motocross and more recently enduros. But I didn’t do any competitions after Peter died. I moved back home. I lived with my parents and brothers for a couple of years. My parents have a farm.”

“So you have other brothers.”

“Yes, five younger brothers. Peter was older than me.”

“Five brothers!”

“Yep. Georgie didn’t need to worry about you messing me around. One foot out of line, Parker and I’ll get my brothers onto you.”

“I’m a bit scared.”

“And so you should be. Actually they’re all pussy cats.”

“Did you mean it when you said you wanted to be a pro.”

“Isn’t it every amateur’s dream, to join a factory team? As it happens, Georgie‘s thinking of making The Falcons a more permanent team. She asked me if I wanted to be part of it and I said yes. Will that be ok with you?”

“Of course. Whatever’s gone on between me and Georgiana shouldn’t have any bearing on what you choose to do. It’s up to me to put things right with her.”

“Do you think you can?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s going to be hard, but I’m going to try.”

Charlotte thought for a moment and then she said, “I do want to be a pro, but you know what I’d also like to do? Travel the world on my bike. We’ve seen such amazing sights on this rally, but there’s never time to take them in properly. I want to see new things and meet people from different cultures and just really discover the world we live in.”

“I’d love to do that too,” said Sidney softly. “Maybe we could do it together. Would you like that?”

“I would love that.”

“Really? Are you sure? I’m not much of a catch. You’ve seen what I can be like. Are you sure you want to put up with me?”

Charlotte turned to face him. She couldn’t see him in the dark, but felt for his lips with her fingers before kissing him. “I’m sure. You’ve had a rough time and made mistakes, but you know what I like about you? You haven’t tried to make excuses. You’re honest and kind. And you have the most beautiful eyes…”

“Not as beautiful as yours.” They kissed again. “How come there’s no one else, Charlotte? Or is there? Is there a boyfriend at home waiting for you?”

“No boyfriend.”

“What about the guy on your team?”

“Who? James?”

“I saw you with him, the way he looked at you…”

“When?”

“I came over wanting to apologise for that article and I saw you together, you kissed his cheek and he glowed. I was so jealous - I wanted to march in and throw you over my shoulder and carry you away!”

Charlotte laughed. “That would have got everyone talking! You’re right though, I think he does like me…”

“Why wouldn’t he?” he said softly. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Am I?” she replied.

“You are.” He kissed her again, longer this time. “You know what I wish?”

“What’s that?”

“That we had fewer clothes on.”

“Do you now?”

“Un huh. Shame we have to keep them all on, but I it’s far too cold…”

“What would you do if I didn’t have all these layers on?” she whispered. 

“What would I do? Mmm. I think I’d kiss you from behind your ear all the way across your neck.”

“That sounds nice. What else?”

“I’d carry on down. Are you still wearing your bra?”

“Yes, but you can remove it.”

“It’s gone. I’d put my hand over your breast and feel it’s weight and then brush the nipple slowly with my thumb…”

“That feels good.”

“And then lower my mouth and just flick it lightly with my tongue.”

Charlotte was lying very close to Sidney, his arms round her, his breath warm on her face. “And then what?” 

“And then I’d suck your nipple until you couldn’t bear it anymore…”

“I can’t bear it anymore…”

“I’d stroke the inside of your thigh. It’s so warm and soft. My hand is coming higher and then it just teases you between your legs where you’re wet…”

“Don’t tease.”

“I won’t tease…” His hand moved to the front of her leather pants and slowly pulled down the zip. Then he eased his hand under her riding tights and then finally under her knickers. He started to stroke her.

“Is that nice?” he murmured.

“Yes… oh…” she gave herself over to the sensations he was producing. She felt ripples of excitement, a tightness that grew and grew and then exploded, waves of pleasure that made her shake and moan. She buried her head in his leather jacket as the feeling finally subsided and she was left gasping for breath. 

Sidney stroked her hair and said softly, “Was that ok for you?”

She lifted her head. “What do you think?” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“It was?”

“It was very much ok.” She kissed him. “But what about you? Can I?...”

“I can wait. God knows, I want you but...”

They lay back and looked up at the night sky. It was covered with stars. Thousands of tiny pinpricks of light stood out against an ocean of velvety blackness.

“Oh look…” breathed Charlotte. “I’ve never seen a sky like that before.”

Wrapped up in their blankets and each other's arms they gazed at the wonders above them. 

“It’s beautiful,” said Sidney. “Just like you.”

“Are you really the same brute I met last week?” She laughed.”

They were silent for a bit and then Sidney said, “You know the shit’s really going to hit the fan when we’re back tomorrow. What should I say about what happened?”

“Can’t you just be honest about it?”

“That’d be a first. Simon will try and spin his own story.”

“Maybe it’s time to tell your own story.”

Sidney smiled. “You know what? I think it probably is.”


	14. The End of the Rally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Our pair will have some time on their own again in the last chapter... But meanwhile, we have a rally to finish.

Just before dawn, Sidney woke up feeling cold. The warm body that had lain in his arms all night was no longer there. Sitting upright he saw Charlotte, eyes shut, stretching up towards the sky that was starting to lighten. He watched her slow graceful gestures and felt happy. He wasn’t going to win the Dakar, but he had won a much more precious prize. Then he thought of what lay in store that day and he inwardly groaned. 

“What is it?” said Charlotte, finishing her yoga practice. “You look very sombre.” She fetched their store of cereal bars and came to sit down with him.

“I was just thinking about what happens later today. The press, Simon, Georgiana… I want to stay in this little bubble, just the two of us.”

“You’re not regretting your decision…?”

“No! Absolutely not.”

“Can I help?”

“Just knowing we’re together will help. And of course I’m going to watch you get your medal for finishing! That’s what I’m going to focus on.”

“Neither of us is going to get that medal if we don’t get a wriggle on. Eat your breakfast Parker, and let’s get going.”

“Yes, milady!”

They quickly ate their breakfast and were back on their bikes, making their way over the last few kilometres of sand dunes. They had 100kms of fast gravel track before finally reaching the end of yesterday’s special. Sidney was relieved not to see any press waiting for him, just a lone official who took their time sheets and gave them a tired smile. There was still another 150km to ride before they reached the bivouac, with 30 minutes to spare before they had to start the final day. It was just enough time to fill up with petrol and replace water and food supplies. Also enough time for Simon to glare at Sidney and hiss, “What do you think you’re playing at?” but not enough time for Sidney to reply. Enough time for Babbington to say, “You ok?” and Sidney to smile and nod; and for Georgie to give Charlotte a relieved hug and Esther to whisper, “There’s a strange rumour about you and Sidney - I want all the details later, ok?”

And then they were off again, on the final day of the rally - ending back in Jeddah where they had started just less than two weeks ago. If the competitors thought the last day would be an easy procession to the final flag, they were sorely disappointed. There were even more dunes to navigate, before they finally hit a long sandy track and their first glimpse of the Red Sea. 

It was an unprecedented situation for Sidney. He wasn’t at the front as the leading competitor, nor at the back when the positions were reversed. He was somewhere in the middle of the remaining 70 bikes. The other riders looked at him curiously, unused to having him riding with them, not sure if he would be fuming at being so far back. They had all heard the rumour that he had stopped - again - to help a fellow competitor and that’s why he had lost the lead. But no one was sure they believed it - not until they saw him at the first checkpoint, laughing and joking with one of The Falcons, Charlotte Heywood. When they saw them together, the rumour made perfect sense. The great Sidney Parker, the one who sneered at the amateurs and walked round in a state of gloom, stuck in the past with memories of his late wife, had fallen in love again. The new improved Sidney - who was happy to ride with the privateers and had a pleasant word for everyone - was much more to everyone’s taste. 

Sidney started to enjoy himself. It was fun being with the amateurs. He admired them for still being in the rally. Some of them had no team to help them, no mechanics to take their bikes from them each night. They had ridden hundreds of kilometres every day, arriving at the bivouac at any hour of the night, only to then start work on their bike, snatch a few hours of sleep and be back on the road again. They were the real heroes of the Dakar, not the elite riders with their motorhomes and physios and teams of mechanics. He heard Eliza snigger. 

_I was right, you are too soft. You’ve lost and you’re going to keep losing now, I know you are._

You’re wrong Eliza. You were always wrong about me. I was stupid to listen to you. And from now on, I’m never listening to you again.

And with that Eliza’s voice disappeared and Sidney never heard it again.

The end of the special approached. The winners had already passed through and were on their way into Jeddah. But a few reporters remained, waiting for Sidney. Although all the competitors had heard the rumour about why Sidney hadn’t won, none of them had breathed a word to the press.

“How are you feeling?”

“It must be disappointing…”

“Tell us what happened in the dunes yesterday…”

Charlotte rode past the little scrum and waited for Sidney a little further on. Esther caught up with her and they hugged. 

“We did it!” said Esther. “Just the road section and we’re done.”

“I can’t believe it!” said Charlotte. “Did you ever think we’d finish?”

“I knew _I_ would - wasn’t so sure about you.” Charlotte punched her on the arm. “So what happened to you last night? When that storm came, I tried to look for you, but it was impossible.”

“Did you get to the bivouac then?”

“I was lucky. I just kept going in the storm and somehow got through it. There were loads of you who didn’t though. Is it true Sidney went to find you and you spent the night in the desert together?”

Charlotte blushed. 

“It’s like that is it?” said Esther with a smirk. “I’m pleased for you - not sure that Georgie will be, but I am - oh look, it’s the man himself.”

Sidney had answered the reporters’ questions as honestly as he could - telling them he had got caught up in the storm - and leaving them bemused at his good humour on losing a rally that, up until a day ago, he was on course to win. When he praised the privateers and said the most important part of the Dakar was the spirit of cooperation between riders, they thought that maybe he had been in the sun too long.

“All done?” said Charlotte.

“All done.”

“Not too excruciating then?”

“It was alright actually. I confused them by being slightly more honest than usual - as you recommended.”

“Shall we ride the next bit together?”

“Be my pleasure.”

Esther watched this exchange with a smile. “You two look like you’ve been together forever not just a day!”

They turned and smiled at her. “You coming?” said Charlotte.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Bollocks,” said Charlotte. “The three of us are finishing this rally together.”

“And I expect Babbington will be waiting for us at the other end,” said Sidney.

“Do you think so?” said Esther with a small smile.

“I know so.”

The three of them rode off down the tarmacked road and, 100kms later, they entered Jeddah. The streets were thronged with people, as they had been almost two weeks earlier when the rally had begun. The finish line approached and then they were through. Charlotte came to a halt and sat there astonished at what she had achieved. Not for long, because soon she heard her name being called - it was Susan, pushing her way through the crowds. 

“You did it!” she said enveloping Charlotte and then Esther in hugs. “I knew you would! I am so happy to see you! And you’re both intact? No injuries?”

They reassured her that they were bruised, tired, but ok.

“I hope you don’t mind Charlotte, but I’ve brought a couple of your biggest fans with me,” said Susan. And there emerging from the crowd was Charlotte’s dad and her brother, William. 

Charlotte burst into tears and hugged them both. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know… you didn’t say…”

“It was this lady here who made sure we came,” her dad said. “We couldn’t miss the chance of seeing you finish. I’m so proud of you, my girl.”

“We drew lots to decide who would come too and I won,” said William proudly. 

“I am so pleased to see you both. I missed you.”

As Sidney had promised, Babbington was also waiting for them at the finish. He shook Sidney’s hand, then pulled him in for a bearhug, whispering in his ear, “Thanks for letting me win, for once.” Then he turned round and saw Esther standing to one side.

“Can I hug you too?” he said shyly.

“You better bloody kiss me too while you’re at!” she replied with a grin.

Sidney stood back and watched Charlotte and her family, Babbington in a long smooch with Esther. He heard the crowd around him, the noise and chatter and felt a little alone with no one to greet him, no media scrum to interview him. Then he heard his name being called and he turned round to see a familiar face.

“Dad!”

“Hello Sidney,” said a tall distinguished man with a thick thatch of grey hair. “Heard the news yesterday that you’d lost. Thought you might need to see a friendly face today. I know Simon’s not one for a consoling word in these circumstances.”

Sidney felt tears come to his eyes. “That’s so… thank you. I’m ok, though, really. It was my choice to lose…”

“You _chose_ to lose? Are you alright, son? You’ve always been so keen on winning...”

“It’s a long story, dad, which I’ll tell you later. But I am very happy you came today.”

The sun started to set and floodlights were turned on, illuminating a giant winners’ podium and ramp. Soon a loudspeaker was making an announcement, first in English and then in Arabic: “Welcome to the awards ceremony of the Dakar Rally. We start with the most prestigious class - the bikes!”

There were cheers and whoops from the crowd and especially from the bikers who were all gathered with their family and friends at the bottom of the ramp.

“And winning the biggest award in all cross-country rallying is… Charles Babbington!”

Babbington emerged waving to the cheering crowd as he climbed the ramp and took the centre spot on the podium. The runners-up were announced and they joined him on the second and third steps. Then a Saudi official, wearing the traditional robe and keffiyah, handed them their trophies to huge roars from the crowd and the setting off of fireworks. A woman with a microphone arrived on the stage and spoke to Babbington: “Charles Babbington, after five years a runner-up, how sweet is it today to be finally crowned the winner of the Dakar Rally?”

Babbington raised the microphone he had been handed and said, “It feels really sweet. But really it should be my teammate, Sidney Parker, standing here. He led the rally from the very beginning and if it wasn’t for yesterday’s sandstorm he would have comfortably won it today.”

There was applause and lots of looks in Sidney’s direction.

“That’s very gracious of you, Charles,” the interviewer said. “But that’s the nature of the Dakar, isn’t it? You can lose it all in a moment. And you’re here today, the winner of the Dakar. You should savour the moment.”

“Thank you, I am enjoying it. I feel very proud. It’s a great moment for the team, to have won the Dakar for a 6th year running…”

The interview continued and then it was time for medals to be handed to everyone who had finished the rally.

“... And next we have two members of the all-women team, The Falcons, who were two of the seven women to finish the Dakar this year! First up, it’s Charlotte Heywood!”

Sidney cheered and whooped and put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. 

His father looked at him curiously. “Is that young lady a friend of yours?”

Sidney looked at him, his face alight. “She certainly is. I’ll introduce you later.”

A bit later: “A big cheer for our next finisher, five times winner of the Dakar rally, Sidney Parker!”

The crowd exploded into noise and clapping. The woman interviewer appeared and said into her microphone. “Sidney, I wonder if we could have a few words from you. We heard Charles Babbington earlier very graciously say it’s you who should have won. What can you tell us about what happened out there?”

Sidney was handed a microphone and he said, “Babbington absolutely deserves this win. He’s ridden magnificently. He won it fair and square.”

“But surely it must be hard losing the rally with just a day to go?”

“These things happen. I think I can honestly say that I’ve enjoyed this Dakar more than any other I’ve done. You know the Dakar isn’t just a race, it’s a test of your stamina, your self-belief. It teaches you who you really are. This year’s rally has taught me so much about myself and for that I am truly grateful. Thank you.” And with that, he handed back his microphone, waved to the crowd and walked back down the ramp to a scrum of reporters who sniffed a more interesting story than one simply about a race leader who got delayed by a sandstorm. 

Sidney realised that if he told anyone he had gone back for Charlotte, it would make Babbington’s win seem less well-deserved. So he sidestepped the media’s questions and gave answers that celebrated the privateers and their courage. He was finally rescued by Simon, who strode into the scrum, put his arm around Sidney and said, “It’s been another amazing year for the team. I’m so proud of both my riders. And now it’s time for Sidney to have a well-earned rest and a bite to eat.”

Simon steered Sidney away from the crowd and towards their hotel, his arm still gripped around him, his fingers digging painfully into his shoulder. “I’m not going to make a scene here in public,” he hissed into Sidney’’s ear. “But you and I are going to have a long chat about your behaviour yesterday.”

Sidney took Simon’s arm and removed it from his shoulders before replying, “There’s going to be no long chat. I quit.”

“ _What_?”

“I’m quitting the team. I thank you for everything you’ve done for me - you rescued me when I was down and I’ll always appreciate that. But I don’t think we can work together anymore. I’m sorry.”

“It’s that little bitch you’ve hooked up with, isn’t it? You’ll tire of her or her of you, and then where will you be? You’ll have nothing.”

Sidney stared at him. “You really don’t care about me, do you? You’re just like Eliza. Neither of you could bear to see me happy. Well, I’ve finally realised that I want to be happy again and be with people who actually have my best interests at heart.” He heard his name being called and turned round to see Charlotte. “And there’s one of them now. Bye Simon.” 

Sidney walked off and took Charlotte’s hand. “I just left my team,” he said, wonder in his voice.

“I didn’t know you were planning to do that!”

“Nor did I!” Sidney laughed. “I just did it. And you know what?”

“What?”

“It feels fantastic. Like a huge weight has just lifted.” He smiled at her.

“I’m so pleased. Good for you.” She smiled back. “Do you want to have dinner with us at the hotel? We’re all meeting up later - you can meet my dad and brother. Susan’s coming, and Esther and Babbington, Georgie too…”

“I’d love to - and you can meet my dad as well. If I can find him again…”

\----------------

After long hot showers all round, the entire Falcons team, Charlotte’s family, Sidney, his dad and Babbington all gathered in the hotel restaurant. Before Sidney entered, he managed to speak to Georgie.

“I know you don’t want me to be here tonight…”

“No, I don’t,” Georgie snapped.

“But Charlotte invited me. And whether you like it or not, we’re together now…”

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“A long long time, if I have anything to do with it.”

“If you hurt her…”

“I know, I’ll have you to deal with, and Charlotte’s five brothers.” Sidney ventured a smile. “Georgiana, I meant it when I said I hoped you’d let me make amends to you. I bitterly regret the way I treated you. I won’t apologise for carrying out your father’s wishes and protecting you from riding, but I chose Eliza over you and I abandoned you when you needed me most and that was appalling and unfair.”

“Yes it was.”

“You know what though? You have grown into an amazing woman. What you have done with your team is truly impressive.”

“Thanks, I suppose,” she said. Her tone was grudging, but her face betrayed her with a sweet smile at his praise. 

“Will you let me show you I can be trusted now?”

“Hmmm, we’ll see.”

“I’ll take that. Now, shall we go join the others. I’m starving.” 

\-------------------

There was a chatty, good-humoured mood over dinner. The four riders were quiet to start with, simply concentrating on eating. The two fathers discovered people and places they had in common, both having raced bikes in their day. William was starstruck, having dinner with not one, not two, but three famous motorcyclists, including Susan. He was on his phone all night, WhatsApping his brothers about what was happening in front of him. James was philosophical about losing Charlotte to Sidney, promising himself that if Sidney messed it up, he’d be there to pick up the pieces. 

Eventually the four riders had eaten their fill and started to talk about the rally, telling those who hadn’t been there what it was like. 

“What happened, Sidney?” asked Susan. “It’s not like you to be thwarted by a storm.”

Sidney and Charlotte looked at each other and then Charlotte said, “Sidney came back for me.”

Susan frowned, trying to understand. “You mean you could have won, but you went looking for Charlotte instead?”

“Who knows if I would have won. Anything can happen on the Dakar, you know that. All I know is that I wanted to make sure Charlotte finished the rally.”

“I’d given up when Sidney appeared. But he convinced me to keep going. And… here I am.”

Sidney’s father saw the loving look his son and Charlotte exchanged and he raised his glass. “Here’s to the Dakar spirit - the most fabulous example of helping each other in sport there is!”

Before the night was over and everyone retreated to their beds, Sidney drew Charlotte to one side and said, “Can I have your number? I’m worried you’ll suddenly disappear and I won’t know how to get in touch with you again.”

Charlotte cupped his cheek with her hand and said, “I’m not disappearing. Although tomorrow, I am meeting some Saudi women who want to get into racing motorbikes.”

“You see?” he smiled. “I knew you’d be in demand. So let’s swap numbers.”

Charlotte took out her phone and switched it on. She’d hardly looked at it the past two weeks.

“Hey,” said Sidney catching a glimpse of the photo she used as her wallpaper. “Let me see that!”

She handed it over, looking sheepish.

“That’s a picture of me!”

“Told you I was a fan,” she said.

And there in the middle of the hotel lobby, Sidney swept her up into his arms and kissed her, while the rest of their party cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven women entered the Dakar this year:  
> 2 Spanish bikers, Laia Sanz (finished 17th!) and Sara Garcia  
> 2 car drivers, Taye Perry from South Africa and Monica Plaza from Spain  
> 3 in the lightweights: Kristen Matlock from the US; and a two-woman team, Italian Camelia Liparoti and Annett Fischer from Germany.  
> They all finished.
> 
> If you're interested in Saudi women getting involved in the Dakar, have a look at this:https://www.dakar.com/en/news/2021/stage-7/lightweight-vehicle/saudi-women-revving-up-for-the-dakar/170297


	15. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter - our pair are now home, will they be able to pick up where they left off?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I've loved researching and writing this story and I'm so happy you've enjoyed it.
> 
> #FalconsFic

After a couple more days in Jeddah, Charlotte flew back home with her father and brother. Her mother was at the airport to drive them home and to make sure Charlotte really was all in one piece.

“Come and stay with us for a few days,” her mum said. It was tempting, but, after the whirlwind of the past two weeks, Charlotte wanted to go back to her own home and start getting used to reality again. However, when she let herself into her cold silent bedsit, she suddenly felt too alone. 

She missed the noise and bustle of the rally, the close proximity of her team, Sidney… She dropped her bags and sank onto the bed. On the wall in front of her was a poster of Sidney himself. She smiled. Had she really met her idol? Had he really come for her in the desert? It all seemed unreal. There was the man she had met and started to know, and then there was the man on the posters, in the advertising, on the podiums. If she thought about the famous version, it didn’t seem possible that she was now part of his life… Her phone rang - it was Sidney himself.

“Hello,” she said shyly.

“Hello,” he said, in his beautiful deep voice. “I was just sitting here and wondering if you really existed or whether I just imagined the last two weeks.”

Charlotte laughed. “I exist, but I was sitting here, wondering if you did.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was looking at your poster on my wall - it didn’t seem possible that I had actually met you.”

“You have a poster of me on your wall!”

“Just a small one…”

“Charlotte, you know all that stuff isn’t real - the posters, the fame, all that. I’m just a guy who rides bikes - and who really wants to see you again.”

“I want to see you too.”

“I promised you dinner - do you remember? Come on Friday - are you free?”

She smiled. “I’m free.”

“I wish it were sooner, but now people know I’ve quit my team, I’ve got meetings already lined up with other teams who are interested in me.”

“Sidney, that’s fantastic!”

“I feel like such an idiot staying with Simon for so long. He had me thinking no one else would want me…”

“He abused you and manipulated you. Now you can be yourself again. Make sure you choose a team that is prepared to listen to you.”

“I will. Thank you, Charlotte.”

“What for?”

“Being on my side.” 

“Of course I am.”

\-----------------------

On Friday, Charlotte dithered over what to wear. It was her first proper date with Sidney, so she wanted to wear a dress. But the only dresses she owned were quite low cut and she still had fading bruises on her chest. So she chose a soft tan crop cardigan than she could button up to her neck, a black wool skirt and some boots. She attempted to tame her hair and then added a little lipgloss and some mascara. She took a last look in the mirror and thought she looked ok, certainly different from how Sidney had ever seen her before.

It was still January and bitterly cold, so she threw her big shapeless puffer coat over the top. Unable to ride her bike in a skirt and heels, Charlotte borrowed the van and drove over to Sanditon. As she grew closer, her earlier confidence started to fade. She couldn't help herself from growing nervous at the thought of spending time with the famous Sidney Parker. Despite Sidney’s assurances that he was just the guy she knew and not the famous version, it was hard for her to separate the two in her mind.

She parked outside Sidney’s block on the seafront, got out of the van and a gust of wind immediately blew her carefully brushed curls into a windswept mess. She stood there for a moment, her heart pounding and her hands growing sweaty. She looked up at the cream Regency building and compared it to her own shabby block. She really had to get a grip on her nerves. He’s just a guy who rides bikes, she reminded herself. Armed with this thought, she climbed the steps to the main entrance.

Heart in her mouth, she pressed the bell for his flat and was buzzed in. And there he was, standing barefoot by the door of his ground floor flat, smiling at her. He looked different - but still ridiculously handsome. The stubble he had sported for two weeks was now shaved off, and his leathers were replaced by jeans and a white shirt that revealed his broad shoulders and muscular frame.

In his turn, Sidney gazed at Charlotte - her hair the wild mass of curls he loved, her cheeks and eyes bright from the cold outside, but still bundled up in too many clothes. To his dismay, she looked nervous. He hadn’t seen her look nervous before and he couldn’t bear the thought that it was he who was making her anxious. He remembered the little surprise he had for her and hoped it would work.

“Hello you,” he said. “Come in.”

Charlotte stepped into a large open plan kitchen, dining room and lounge. It was softly lit by a scattering of lamps. Polished floorboards were partly covered by a large thick rug. In a corner was a comfy looking leather sofa and on the walls were framed film posters of Peter Fonda in Easy Rider and Marlon Brando in The Wild One. Cool jazz was playing softly in the background. 

Charlotte stood and gazed around her. “What a lovely room!” she said finally. “It’s so warm and welcoming and stylish…”

Sidney watched her taking in her surroundings and said, amused. “You sound surprised. What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know…” 

“Here, let me take your coat.” She took it off and handed it to him, suddenly shy for him to see her without all her usual bikers’ layers. Sidney looked at her and smiled. “Don’t you scrub up well!” he said.

“Will I do?” she said shyly.

He winked at her and said, “You will do very well.”

“Do you mind if I take my boots off as well?” she said.

“Since when have you asked my permission to do anything?”

She smiled ruefully and unzipped her boots, feeling her bare feet sink into the soft rug. Her attention was then caught by a small framed print on the wall which looked vaguely familiar. She walked over to the sofa, knelt up on it and looked. It was the picture of her that had appeared in the local paper after she won the Sussex Motorcross Championship. She felt a lump grow in her throat and her eyes prick with tears. 

Sidney, returning from hanging up her coat, saw what she was looking at and joined her on the sofa. She looked at him and he saw the tears in her eyes. “Why are you crying?” he said, gently.

“I’m not crying, I’m just… I can’t believe you did this… for me…”

“Why not? You have my picture on your wall. Why can’t I have yours on mine? I entered that championship three times and never won.”

She slumped down on the sofa next to him and Sidney looked at her disbelieving expression. He had been so looking forward to this evening, to seeing her again, but now she was here there was a distance between them. The intimacy he had felt on the rally had gone; it felt like she was nervous, uncomfortable and he didn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?” he said softly. 

“What do you mean?” she said, crossing her arms tightly around her body.

“You seem on edge. Has something happened…? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Charlotte, still hugging her body, looked into his concerned face. There _was_ something wrong. She felt vulnerable, overwhelmed. She remembered how easy it had been with him on the rally. What had changed…?

“I’m sorry… I think it’s being here with you, like this, in your own home - your beautiful home… Over there we were equals - sort of. But here… I mean, you have all this and you’re famous and I… I live in a bedsit and deliver parcels all day. I don’t know… if I was here with my bike, in my leathers I’d be ok. But without them I feel naked…”

Sidney looked at her and had a brainwave. He stood up and started pulling off his shirt and jeans.

“What… what are you doing?!” she said, starting to giggle.

He sat back down on the sofa just in his boxers. “There you go,” he said, “I’m naked too.”

“Not completely, you’re not,” she said, still giggling.

He gave her a knowing look, stood up and took his boxers off too.

“How’s that?” he said, sitting back down again. “Better?”

“You’re mad, you know that?” she said, smiling.

He grinned at her. “Are we back to normal now? Equals?”

She nodded, her eyes taking in his broad shoulders, his muscled arms, the tangle of hair on his chest, the long scar… She leaned over and touched it. “You’ve been injured,” she said.

“Many times. This is a scarred battered body in front of you.”

“I’ve got scars too,” she said, lifting her cardigan up to reveal a raised white line up her side.

Sidney placed his hand over it and stroked it with his thumb. She shivered slightly under his touch and looked at him. Their eyes caught and then her lips were against his as his arm held her close. They kissed lightly at first and then their kisses deepened as their tongues entwined and she felt his hands slide up her back beneath her top. She climbed onto his lap so she was sitting straddled across his legs.

“May I,” he said, undoing the top button of her little cardigan. She nodded and he continued, revealing her fading bruises.

“Are these from the rally?” he said softly. She nodded again and he put his lips to them and kissed them gently before undoing the rest of her buttons.

“You’re so beautiful, Charlotte. Do you know that?” he said gazing at her lovely large breasts in their black satin bra.

“You’re beautiful too,” she said softly, stroking his shoulders and then running her hand through his hair.

He unfastened her bra and then cupped her breasts with his hands, slowly stroking the nipples and hearing her breath start to shorten. Then he placed his lips on her nipple and flicked it with his tongue, while his hands reached under her skirt and started to stroke the inside of her thighs. She gasped as he started to suck her nipple lightly at first, then harder. Charlotte felt for him and lightly stroked his hardness. 

“Touch me,” she whispered.

“Not yet,” he growled. 

Then he stood up, holding her, her legs clamped around his waist.

“Where are we going?” she laughed. 

“There’s a nice sand dune outside with our names on it,” he said moving them towards the front door.

She squealed, “No!”

“No? Ok, somewhere more comfy instead then,” and he carried her through into the bedroom where he put her down, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I think it’s time these came off, don’t you?” he said unzipping her skirt and pushing down her lacy knickers before pulling her back onto his lap.

“Now where was I?” he said, taking her nipple into his mouth again.

Her breath caught as she felt her excitement grow. His hands were still stroking her thigh but not going any further.

“Now will you touch me?”

“Not yet.”

She stroked his hardness again and heard him groan.

“Now?” She felt she might explode if he didn’t release her soon.

Sidney raised his head and looked at her as his hand reached between her legs and started to slowly caress the wetness he felt there. She moaned in relief and felt the walls start to close in. They watched each other as they stroked, the feelings growing stronger. 

“Can I…?”

“Yes.”

“I need to…”

“No you don’t. I’m on the…”

She raised herself up and felt him enter her, moving slowly, still stroking her and teasing her nipple with his tongue. Charlotte felt her excitement build. She felt him move his hand and the sensation faded. She pushed his hand back and he stroked her again and now the tingling grew till her whole body felt full and the pleasure exploded. She was gasping and sighing as the ecstasy continued to ripple. She felt Sidney moving faster now, as he too was overcome and then he too was panting and groaning, falling back onto the bed with her on top of him. 

They lay there, Sidney stroking her hair as they both relaxed. “Now that was worth waiting for,” he finally said.  
She giggled, but said nothing. After a bit he said, “You’re very quiet. What are you thinking?”

Charlotte raised her head to look at him. “I was thinking, did you really never win the Sussex Motorcross Championship?”

“ _That’s_ what you were thinking!” he looked at her in mock outrage. 

“I won first time I entered,” she said smugly.

“Did you now?” he said, tipping her onto her back and tickling her.

“Stop!” she squealed.

“You’re ticklish! That’s good to know…” he said with an evil smile.

They lay on their sides, facing each other. Charlotte stroked his arm and said, “Look, there’s our two birds together again.”

Sidney looked at their tattoos side by side. “That’s when I knew for sure you were the one for me,” he said. 

“Not before?” she teased. “Not when I was giving you a hard time?”

“I had my suspicions then, but our birds clinched it.”

She kissed him - a long lingering loving kiss. When she finally moved away he looked at her, his eyes soft. “That was nice. What was that for?” he said softly.

She smiled at him. “Because you make me feel like I’m flying.”

He rolled her onto her back and kissed her slowly, feeling her hands in his hair. He started to stroke her body, feeling its curves and contours. He felt her hands doing the same. Bit by bit they explored each others’ bodies. He trailed a line of kisses down her stomach and then between her legs and he heard her sigh. He could feel her body starting to tense and quiver; he needed to be in her to share this feeling.

“Don’t stop!” she said as he raised his head.

“I’m not stopping,” he said as entered her. “I want to be with you.”

As they moved together, they gazed into each others’ eyes, the connection between them growing stronger with every thrust. Charlotte felt a slow wave of warmth creep over her, taking her over until she was flying, free and exhilarated. 

\---------------------

Eventually they got up and finally had dinner, Sidney in his dressing gown and Charlotte wearing one of his t-shirts. Over steak and wine, he said, “Stay all weekend.”

“Ok.”

And then they went back to bed.

On Sunday evening as Charlotte gathered her things to get ready to leave, she felt Sidney’s eyes on her.

“What is it?” she said.

“I don’t want you to go.”

She looked at him and saw a small smile and something else - hope, happiness, shyness all flitting across his beautiful face. She dropped her bag on the floor and put her arms around him. “I don’t want to go either.”

“You don’t?” His smile was dazzling.

“No. But if I’m going to stay a bit longer I’m going to need some more clothes - and my bike.”

“I think we can manage that.”

Charlotte drove the van back home with Sidney following in his car. They picked up some of her clothes and returned to Sanditon, Charlotte following this time, on her bike. When she was still there a week later, they went and fetched some more of her things. When she realised she hadn’t slept in her bedsit for three weeks she asked Sidney, “Are we moving too quickly?” 

“Would you prefer more dates where I walk you home and give you a peck on the cheek before leaving?” he teased. 

“No,” she laughed.

He grew serious, “If you want to slow things down, just say.”

“I don’t. I suppose I’m worried everything’s going too well. That we’re going to spoil it somehow.”

“It’s going well because we’re good together.”

“We are, aren’t we,” she smiled.

“I was such a miserable sod and then you came along and now look at me… You make me very happy, Charlotte Heywood.”

“You make me happy too.”

“In fact,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “I would go so far as to say that I love you.”

Charlotte looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Would you now?”

“I would.”

“Say it again,” she said, smiling.

He took both her hands in his, looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I love you, Charlotte. I love everything about you, your beautiful eyes, your sweet smile, your wild hair, your lovely body, the way you tease me and tell me the truth, the way you ride your bike, your kindness and ambition and curiosity. You’ve made me realise what love truly is. You make me feel loved.”

“That’s because I love you too.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” she laughed and he picked her up and swung her around until she begged him to put her down again.

“Do you still think we’re going too fast?” he said.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you move in properly with me?”

She looked at him in wonder. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course.”

“I would love that,” she said.

So they made one more trip back to her bedsit and collected the rest of her things and Charlotte told her landlord she was moving out. Her framed posters went up on the wall next to Sidney’s and her biking memorabilia merged with his. They squabbled over housework and took bike rides together. They talked and planned their first road trip - around Ireland and the Isle of Man. And they received guests - their parents and all of Charlotte’s brothers, who Sidney soon grew very fond of; Babbington and Esther who were now engaged to be married; and even Georgie as she and Sidney started to get to know each other, properly this time.

The Falcons gained interest from sponsors and Georgie was able to pay Charlotte and Esther a small retainer for the next twelve months. Sidney joined a new factory team and he and Charlotte had to get used to being apart. Although, as Charlotte grew more experienced, they started taking part in the same events. Which meant, that as January approached, they had the prospect of returning together to the Dakar Rally. 

“Who’d have thought, a year ago, that this time we’d be going back as a couple?” said Charlotte.

“We’re not going as a couple. We’re going as rival competitors,” said Sidney, smiling.

Charlotte laughed. “So we are.”

“So don’t think for one minute I’m rescuing you, if you get stuck in the desert.”

“Likewise, Mr Parker. When I see you stuck in a sand bowl, I’m going to ride past, laughing my head off.”

He caught her round the waist and said, “Whatever happened to that sweet girl I met almost a year ago? You’ve turned into a mean keen winning machine!”

She laughed, then put her arms around his neck and said, “I love to win, but I’m still the same girl. Seriously, you do know that you’ll always come first for me? Nothing - no win, no championship is as important as you.”

“And you know that I’ll always come and get you, if you need me?”

“Even if it means losing?”

“How can it be losing when it means I still have you? You’re the only prize that really matters.”

And with that he kissed her.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you have asked whether there will be a sequel to follow our pair on their travels. I said no to a trip round the world - I didn't think I was quite up to that! But now they've decided on a trip round Ireland and the Isle of Man (home of the TT races) I'm tempted... However, I've just started writing a new story - it's a bit strange and I'm not sure it's going to work but I want to see where it goes. I'll keep Ireland bubbling away at the back of my head and we'll see what happens.


End file.
